


Agency

by house_of_lantis



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, agency, dubcon, semi-drunk sex, they're all actors, tv trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:53:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3516032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky are actors on a critically-acclaimed, popular TV show called “Agency” and their characters, Chris and Sebastian, are the fan favorites. The showrunner and the studio never expected to have their characters turn into a couple, but fans are salivating over their onscreen chemistry and sexual tension. With the stunning season 1 cliffhanger where Sebastian is revealed to be the new villain, season 2 opens with an intense manhunt led by Chris. Steve and Bucky are cool with the new direction of their character development – in fact, they revel in it because they want their characters to evolve and love the idea of the new scope of their relationship. But Steve has had a secret offscreen crush on Bucky for years; how is he going to keep it hidden now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. TEASER: The Set Up

**Author's Note:**

> PAIRING: Steve/Bucky (with RPS in-show characters Chris/Sebastian; other Marvel characters will appear)
> 
> NOTE: I’m not sure who originated this general TV trope prompt (it might have been one of the Petopher Assemble crew on Tumblr) which I tailored specifically for my Stucky fic. If the original TV trope prompt belongs to you, let me know and I’ll credit. Thanks!
> 
> INTERMISSION: Okay, let’s not bullshit, this is going to be terribly self-indulgent. If you’re not into actor AUs or fan panel scenarios, you may find this fic a bit boring and extremely self-indulgent; you might even feel a bit of secondhand embarrassment – it’s totally okay, you can back out of this fic at any time, I won’t be insulted. But if you are like me, someone who probably spends way too much free time watching panel videos on YouTube, then this fic might be entertaining for you. Either way, thanks for giving it a try.
> 
> IMAGES: Google; not mine.
> 
> AGENCY SCRIPT PAGES: Mine.

 

**TEASER: The Set Up**

_The chase is on! Join the creative talent behind the award-winning TV series “Agency.” The line-up will include executive producer/writer/creator Phil Coulson, and stars Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) and James Barnes (Sebastian Stan), in a special Q &A panel moderated by Buzzfeed senior editor Jarett Oliver. They’ll expose behind-the-scenes secrets from the first season and an exclusive preview of the first 6-minutes of the premiere episode of season 2. Ballroom 20 from 3:00 – 4:00 pm. _

***

“He’s never late,” Steve said, looking around the bustling hallway.

Bucky was never late for a job in his life, but after they checked into their hotel rooms, Bucky had slipped away with a casual “ _going for a smoke, meet you at the convention center, pal_ ” and was gone. Steve hated it when Bucky pulled one of his disappearing acts.

He could hear Bucky’s voice in his head “ _we’re at Comic-Con, Steve; you can’t let an opportunity like that get away from you_.”

But they weren’t there just to have fun, they had work to do, duties and obligations to the show, the studio, and the fans – panels, autograph signings, photo ops, and the infamous press room that reminded Steve of being herded through a chute in a cattle call.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be here,” Phil said, patting Steve’s shoulder.

He appreciated that Phil was always so calm in the eye of a storm. The older man reminded Steve of men from another era. He always wore a suit, he was reserved and unfailingly polite, and unafraid to go toe-to-toe with the studio heads to ensure the integrity of the show. Before Steve met Phil, he was, frankly, intimidated by the showrunner. Hollywood being a small town, he had heard that Phil was tough but fair, and everyone from cast to crew lined up to work with him on his projects. 

Steve gave him a small, pained grin. “I’ve never been to one of these on this side of the room before.”

“It takes getting used to, but I believe you’ll do fine.” He smiled at Steve, genuine warmth on his face.

Steve was used to praise, knew when it was sincere and not just to kiss his ass; but coming from _Phil Coulson_ , it felt…something more than just real. It felt _complete_. “Thanks, Phil.”

There was a commotion at the end of the hall and Steve leaned past Phil to see the top of Bucky’s head moving through the crowd. Steve let out a soft exhale of relief.

Bucky swaggered towards them, surrounded by three security guards, a wide smile on his face. He wore a pair of silver rimmed sunglasses, so easy in his skin that if Steve wasn’t his best friend, he might actually be a little jealous. Bucky wasn’t bothered by the fact that people were holding up their phones and taking his picture. Steve didn’t think Bucky could be bothered by anything much, to tell the truth. Of all of them, he’d settled into his sudden fame relatively easily while Steve still felt a bit awkward in his new skin.

He pulled off his sunglasses, tucking one end of the arm in the neck of his tee-shirt. “I made the mistake of walking through the lobby and got mobbed by some people who recognized me.”

Steve gave him a long look. “How many phone numbers did you get this time?”

“A gentleman never tells.”

He looked around, pasting on an innocent expression. “Oh? You see a gentleman around here?”

“You’re such a punk.”

“Jerk.”

Bucky laughed, curling his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “ _Awww_ , don’t be like that, pal.” He released Steve and then nodded politely to Phil. “Phil. Did we get a good turn out?”

Phil just grinned, shaking his head in amusement. “Full house. It’s good to see you, James.”

Bucky saw the expression on Steve’s face and gave him a saucy wink. Steve gave him a quick once over – longish brown hair brushed back off his face, stubble on his cheeks. He was wearing a white tee-shirt, a plaid shirt, and a denim jacket over it.

“That’s my shirt.”

“Yeah, I needed a clean shirt.”

Steve nodded; Bucky always over-packed his duffel but never anything sensible and wound up stealing Steve’s clothes. He paused and stared at the familiar plaid shirt. “How did you get into my room?”

“Told the hotel front desk that I was your secret plus-one,” Bucky teased, leaning close, a wide smile on his face. Steve hid the disappointment from Bucky, instead he rolled his eyes at Bucky’s usual antics. “So they gave me a copy of your room card. Besides, I’ll just crash with you. You got a huge fucking suite, movie star.”

“You have the same sized room.”

Bucky shrugged. “Who cares, I don’t want to stay by myself. Besides, I think the AC is broken in my room, it’s freezing in there.”

Steve smiled, just enough to look pleased, but not so obvious that he was actually ecstatic. It wasn’t like he minded. And the room was quite big, more than enough space for the two of them to share for the whole weekend. “All right.”

“Gentlemen, I think they’re ready for us,” Phil said, nodding to them.

“We’re ready.”

They looked into the ballroom to see their moderator take the stage, standing behind the podium set up beside their table. Steve felt a buzz of excitement race up his spine and settling low in his belly as the murmurings from the room became lower and stilled. He felt Bucky press up close behind him, neatly hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder, the warmth of his breath against his neck.

“Can you feel that?” Bucky murmured, his voice low and awed.

Bucky had no concept of personal space. It drove Steve absolutely nuts.

“I’ve never felt anything like that before; it’s so _thick_ —“

Steve bit his lip and nodded, glad that Bucky couldn’t see his face. He was sure that everyone would be able to see that Steve’s mind went right into the gutter.

“—you can taste it,” Bucky said, huskily.

“Yeah,” he choked out, clearing his throat quickly.

“Hello, everyone, it’s great that you made it in. I saw the line and I heard most of you were waiting a long time. It looks like we have a packed room so I’ll get started. I’m Jarett Oliver, senior editor for BuzzFeed, and moderator for today’s panel for the hit television show, ‘Agency,’ making their first visit to the Comic-Con stage.”

Screams and cheers echoed out into the hallway. Steve felt his stomach pitch into his groin. It sounded friendly, but it was still intimidating as hell. Ballroom 20 could seat almost 5,000 people and the sound of 5,000 people cheering was intense. Steve took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. _Breathe in, breathe out._ He felt Bucky’s hand on his back, heavy and comforting. He shared a look with Bucky, who gave him a kind smile.

Jarett chuckled, looking at his notes. “’Agency’ is a one-hour drama following in the tradition of shows like ‘24’ and ‘Homeland’ focused around a secret, unnamed black ops agency, and the men and women whose mission is to safeguard America’s secrets and to fight all enemies, foreign and domestic.” 

He turned to look at the lead handler, who nodded that they were ready.

“First, I’d like to welcome to the stage, the creative genius behind ‘Agency.’ His credits also include being executive producer and creator for hit television shows like ‘INTERPOL’ and ‘Sell Out’ and includes box office blockbusters such as ‘The Diamond War’ and ‘Couriers.’ His name is Phil Coulson and he is the executive producer, writer, and creator of ‘Agency’. Please give a warm and hearty welcome to Phil Coulson.”

Phil gave Steve and Bucky a quick wink and made his way into the side door of the ballroom, going up the steps to the stage. Steve smiled as the older man, wearing his signature navy blue suit, held up his hand to the cheering crowd. Phil shook Jarett’s hand and took his seat at the panel table.

“Next, I’m happy to introduce a man who doesn’t need an introduction. He plays the by-the-book director of field operations, Chris Evans. Please—“

There was a deafening roar through the room and Steve gave a small grin, tucking in his chin slightly. Bucky laughed against his ear, one arm slung over Steve’s shoulders.

“Hear that, Rogers? That’s for you.”

“—please welcome, Steve Rogers.”

Bucky gave him a playful slap on the rear with a casual “go get ‘em, tiger.” Steve rolled his eyes and nervously pushed up the sleeves of his blue cardigan sweater, bouncing up the steps to the stage. He looked out at the room and waved both of his hands, looking down to avoid being blinded by the multiple flashes of lights that bounced throughout the ballroom.

Steve shook Jarett’s hand and sat down next to Phil. He reached for a bottle of water and took a quick sip, swallowing down his nerves.

“And last, but not least, he plays the badass senior field agent Sebastian Stan, who stunned everyone in the season 1 finale episode when he was revealed to be the traitor—“

There was a crescendo of cheers and applause and Steve leaned back in his chair to look over at Bucky, who was standing calm and tall, a cool smile on his lips.

“—please welcome to the stage, James Barnes.”

Bucky came up on stage and went to shake Jarett’s hand, then Phil’s hand, and Steve stood up to give him a proper hug. They sat down and looked out at the darkened room, still adjusting to the flashing lights and the noise.

There were a few “I love you Steve” and “I love you James” and Steve and Bucky shared a smile, waving to the fans.

Phil gave Jarett a signal to start.

“Phil, Steve, and James, welcome to Comic-Con 2015.”

“Thank you, we’re excited to be here,” Phil said as Steve and Bucky nodded.

Jarett checked his notes. “Okay, let’s start with the showrunner of ‘Agency,’ Phil Coulson. This is not your first time at Comic-Con.”

“No, but the experience is never the same.”

“So season 1, did you accomplish what you wanted to, in terms of telling the story and taking the characters through their personal arcs?”

Phil made a thoughtful expression. “I feel that we did accomplish our storytelling goals for season 1, which were to introduce all of the characters in a way that they felt familiar, and to put them on the various paths that we hope will intersect at multiple points in season 2. The show, while it does have a lot of action and a frenetic pace, at its core is a story of the human experience, which in turn drives the action and the drama, influences character’s decisions, and allows us to tell interesting stories about these characters.” He smiled at the audience. “We can only hope to deliver another season that will resonate with our fans.”

“Can you tell us what we can expect in season 2?”

“All I’m going to say is that there will be more action, drama, humor—“

“Sex?” Jarett said, to the pleasure of the audience.

Bucky leaned towards Steve’s microphone. “Yes.”

“You can use your own mic,” Steve said to him, motioning with his chin to the microphone stand set up for Bucky.

“What?”

Steve reached over and pulled the microphone closer to Bucky; who snorted and pushed the microphone away, scooting his chair closer to Steve.

“We can share; we share everything anyway,” Bucky said, unconcernedly.  

Steve looked at Bucky, who waggled his eyebrows at him. Steve mouthed ‘juvenile’ at him and Bucky stuck out just the tip of his tongue. Steve shook his head as the room filled with even more camera flashes.

He elbowed Bucky hard in that spot right under Bucky’s ribs. He snorted and fell against Steve’s shoulder, hiding his face against Steve’s arm. Steve let it happen; keeping the look of amusement on his face as he took in Bucky’s familiar scent of cologne, hair gel, and cigarette smoke. If they weren’t in public, Steve would’ve dropped a quick kiss to the top of Bucky’s head. The camera flashes increased and Steve just smiled, pushing Bucky back into his chair.

“Boys, are we going to have to separate you?” Jarett teased.

“No.”

“What was the question?” Bucky said, laughing.  

Phil grinned, entertained and patient. “Going back to your question, Jarett, of course we won’t skimp on the relationships that populate the world – and yes, we do understand that intimacy between various characters are of interest and we plan to expand on the relationships as they evolve in season 2. We’ll get to know more about the enemy in the shadows that we only touched on in season 1. I don’t want to spoil too much for the fans so let’s just leave it at that for now.”

“Fair enough. Hey Steve, how’s it going, glad to be here for your first Comic-Con?”

Steve grinned at Jarett. “It’s _fantastic_ to be here. I’ve been coming to Comic-Con as a fan for years, but it’s exciting being here on stage. There’s nothing like it in the world.”

“Steve, you play the newly appointed Director of Field Ops, Chris Evans. Tell us about what Chris went through in season 1. Your character started season 1 as a by-the-book government bureaucrat, disliked by pretty much everyone at the Agency.”

“Well, not everyone,” Bucky added, coyly, encouraging the ‘ooohhhs’ from the crowd.

“Chris is – he’s a Bostonian blueblood and he comes from a long line of politicians and players. He’s socially awkward and sometimes puts his foot in his mouth so people think he’s a jerk, but he’s not there to make friends. He’s a career bureaucrat; he’s never been in the field. He knows, and everyone else knows, that he got his job because of his family connections, not because he earned it,” Steve said, leaning towards his microphone. “So he has a lot to prove, but I think we did a good job of showing in season 1 that he’s not going to just sit back in the safety of his office while bad things are happening in the world.”

“But you can’t discount his political savvy; Chris is an extremely smart political animal.” Phil added, smoothly. “He may have gotten the job because of father, but Chris is a patriot and he believes in the mission of the Agency.”

Jarett said, “Basically, this whole season was about Chris Evans being betrayed by everyone around him—“

“His dad, his boss, his lover, his _best friend_.” Steve said, turning to give Bucky a look.

Bucky laughed, holding up his hands. “Blame Phil, not me.” 

“I feel like at the end of season 2, he should grow a beard and just go live alone in the mountains.”

Everyone laughed; there was a loud smattering of “no’s” through the crowd. Someone yelled “take James with you” and Steve laughed, good-naturedly, as Bucky leaned back in his chair, smiling widely.

“So how is Chris Evans going to come back from all those betrayals and breaks in trust in season 2?”

Steve stared out at the darkened room. He was glad that they were just shadows to him and that he couldn’t see how many people were staring back at him.

“ _Can_ he even come back from that?” He said, smiling widely. “And to be honest, I don’t think the writers are going to go easy on him.”

He looked at Phil and Phil gave an enigmatic smile, shaking his head.

“It’s destroyed his entire world view and who he can and cannot trust. What happened at the end of season 1 is going to force a fundamental change in him and no one knows if he’ll be able to handle the pressure.”

“Can we talk about that last scene?” Jarett said as the audience laughed and whooped.

Bucky cracked up and leaned in close to speak into the microphone in front of Steve, crowding in against Steve. “What about it? The part where I shot him or...”

“Kissed him!” Someone shouted from the audience. “When you kissed him!”

Bucky deadpanned. “Oh. That. You guys noticed that, huh?”

Steve tilted his head to give Bucky an amused look as the room exploded with screams, someone let out a long and impressive whistle. Bucky gave his best shit eating grin and Steve just rolled his eyes, laughing.

“Well, I think that probably said it all,” Steve murmured, feeling his face flush slightly.

Bucky laughed, reaching over to playfully pinch Steve’s cheek, triggering the audience to let out a series of “awww’s” when Steve ducked his chin to hide his blush.

“Speaking of that scene, a page of the script was leaked to the public a week before the episode aired. Was that intentional? A PR stunt to draw in viewers?”

_Agency. Episode 22: Deliverance_

 

Phil shook his head. “It wasn’t intentional; and certainly not for fanservice. We found out that one of the script assistants left behind extra copies in the copier when she was putting the scripts together for the cast and someone found it and posted it online. By the time we discovered it, we were too late in taking it down. We had already finished production and none of us wanted to reshoot the scene because we needed the scene to end on that note.”

“It’s no secret that Chris and Sebastian are fan favorites – don’t they have their own name in fandom?” Jarett prompted, grinning.

“Evanstan,” Steve said, looking out at the audience.

There was prolonged cheering in the room.

“Steve. James. What was your reaction when you read that scene?”

“I thought it was going to be a really dramatic shift in how people viewed Chris’s friendship – his relationship – with Sebastian,” Steve said, seriously. “Bucky and – I mean, _James_ and I tend to read lines—“

“Bucky!” Someone screamed in the audience, setting off a few more screams.

Steve made a face and looked at Bucky apologetically. He knew Bucky liked to keep his private life as private as possible; only his family and closest friends ever called him Bucky and Steve had revealed it to the world. He leaned away from the microphone. “Sorry.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and leaned into the microphone. “It’s just a nickname, don’t get excited.”

Steve shook his head. “Anyway…so yeah, when we get our scripts, we read our lines together. When we got the last script, we were sitting in my house and just having a drink when we read the scene and we were both… _of course_ we already knew that it was going to happen. We met with Phil and a couple of the studio executives to talk through the character arc going into season 2. So, no, it wasn’t a shock or anything. I think I can speak for James when I say that we were really excited to see our characters evolve.”

Bucky nodded agreeably and leaned towards the microphone. “I mean the whole script was pretty intense; there was a lot going on in that last episode. We were trying to wrap up a few loose ends through the whole season and you guys finding out that Chris and Sebastian were lovers was only just a part of the whole story. But I bet I was the only one who knew that Sebastian was going to be revealed as the traitor.”

“I told James during the shoot for episode 15 that Sebastian was going turn traitor so that he’d know how to play his scenes from that point to the end,” Phil said, nodding. 

“I never figured it out until the last episode,” Steve said, looking at Bucky. “I can’t believe you never told me.”

“I was sworn to secrecy, pal.” Bucky laughed and then turned to the audience. “The one thing you all don’t know about Steve is that he reads every single script. Steve knows every little detail about everything that happens on the show.”

Steve chuckled. “I don’t know _everything_ ; I didn’t figure out that Chris and Sebastian were best friends until episode 10!” 

_Agency. Episode 10: Family of Choice_

 

“And that’s a perfect segue to go to James,” Jarett said, checking his notes. “We all thought we had your character figured out, but Sebastian Stan turned out to be the biggest traitor—“

“Traitor is such a terrible word,” Bucky said, chuckling into the microphone.

“So what is Sebastian up to in season 2?”

Bucky looked at Phil, who shook his head slightly, and he nodded back before turning to the microphone. “My character is probably trying not to get hunted down and killed by this guy over here.” He motioned his thumb at Steve and smirked. “I’m not allowed to give out any details—“

“Are you saying that you _know_ what happens in season 2?” Steve said, eyes widening in surprise.

“I might have read a few early drafts of the first five episodes,” Bucky revealed, playfully. “But no, in all seriousness, from what Phil’s told me, it’s going to be fantastic. I think every actor kind of likes playing the bad guy, it gives us a lot of freedom and we can cross a lot of lines that the good guys can’t. But I don’t think Sebastian is a bad guy. I think that he believes in _his_ mission as much as Chris believes in his.”

“You can’t have a bad guy who is simply there to be bad. He, or she, needs to have as pure a belief in that they are doing the right thing as the show’s protagonist. Sebastian’s betrayal at the end of season 1 was a punch in the gut, but we had to go there in order to tell the next part of the story.” Phil said, leaning towards his microphone. “I promise that more will be revealed about Sebastian’s background by mid-season.”

“This is probably a good time to show the exciting clip from the season 2 premiere,” Jarett said, waving his hands for calm as the audience started screaming and clapping. “We should—are we ready to show the clip? Excellent, the tech guys say they are ready to go.”

Steve turned to look at the big screen behind them; it was terribly close and hard to see what was going on from their angle, but he couldn’t help the small smile when he heard the audience reaction behind him. He glanced at Bucky to see him staring up at the screen, arms crossed, head tilted all the way back, eyes lit up from the light of the screen, a huge kid-like smile on his lips.

He loved how Bucky was always in the moment; that even though he was a professional and he knew it was all just part and parcel of the job; he could still find pleasure in it. Steve loved it, too, but it felt different for him. He felt like he couldn’t let go, that there was a lot riding on him doing the job right. The only time he relaxed enough to be in the moment was when he was in front of the camera, when he was wearing Chris Evan’s skin.

It was over too soon, the stage lights came back on, and there was applause coming from the room. Steve smiled and nodded his thanks; there was nothing as gratifying as instant feedback from the fans and he felt proud to be part of something that people liked.

“And there’s more where that came from,” Phil said, turning to look at Steve and Bucky.

Steve nodded and looked at Bucky, who curled his arm behind Steve’s neck, pulling him close to laugh against his ear.

“You doing okay?” Bucky said, pushing the microphone away from them. “We should hit the town after we finish up today. Natasha said that she was bringing one of her friends – the blonde, the one that looks like a doll, what’s her name, Sharon something; she’s dying to meet you by the way, we should go out dancing.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, ducking his head towards Bucky. “I guess so. What did you guys tell her about me?”

Bucky smirked. “That you were a TV star.”

Steve swallowed, nodding quickly, and turned back to the audience. He pasted on his public smile, one of his hands clenched into a fist under the table.

“’Agency’ season 2 premieres on Wednesday, September 9th, on CBS, 9 PM Eastern/8 PM Central,” Jarett said, smiling. “Okay, we have 10 minutes left to the panel so we have time for a few questions. If you can get to one of the standing microphones, there’s one on the right and one on the left—yeah, yeah, right there. Go ahead.”

Steve took a steadying breath, trying to settle his nerves as they waited for the fan questions to start. He had talked to a few of his friends who had been on panels at Comic-Con; most of them loved the spontaneity and the unpredictability of the questions, but some of them were really intimidated by fan questions.

He felt Bucky’s hand on the back of his chair, his thumb tapping gently against his back. Steve grinned and leaned back against the steady touch, trying to let Bucky know that he was doing okay. There was a time when he struggled with public appearances, always feeling like he had to do a song-and-dance; trying too hard to make the PR spiel sound natural. Over time, with practice and a lot of PR coaching, Steve had gotten better. But it was still _work_ for him.

Whereas Bucky just seemed to know what to say, how to act, and when to give his best charm-your-pants-off smile or his best boyish grin. The PR guys loved working with Bucky; they could put him in front of any interviewer or camera and Bucky would just come alive on the screen.

_“I feel like a well-dressed puppet on a string.” Steve once confided to Bucky after coming back from a round of press that left him feeling thin-skinned, vulnerable, and shocky._

_Bucky gave him a long look. “Then cut their strings, pal. If you have to dance, do it to your own tune.”_

Steve hated being bullied by the press, all of them probably sensed that he wasn’t good at it and they weren’t in the mood to make it any easier for him, so he started fighting back. He started calling them out on their crap. He didn’t always get a favorable write-up, some of the press liked to beat the shit out of him in the tabloids, but Steve always got back on his feet.

Bucky gave him a quick elbow to the side, drawing Steve back to the present. Thankfully, the first three questions were to Phil so Steve didn’t have much to add. But this question was addressed to him.

“—was wondering if you’d ever go back to doing USO Tours again?”

Steve cleared his throat and reached for the microphone. “Of course; any time, I’d be honored if they asked me to come back. Some of you may not know that I actually got my professional start doing USO shows, you know, mostly in the background. It was a lot of work, but it was also a lot of fun. I’ve always loved those vaudeville types of shows; performing on a stage. I got to travel to places I probably never would’ve had the chance to visit if it weren’t for the USO Tour. Plus, I’m very proud of the people who serve in our Armed Forces, so yes, I’d go back if they ever asked.”

“Well, you were really cute in your patriotic tights,” Bucky said, chuckling. “Everyone should Google search images. There was that one costume where you had a star on your butt – didn’t they call you the ‘Star-Spangled Boy’?”

The audience hooted and laughed.

“Jerk!” Steve laughed and pressed his hand over Bucky’s mouth, pushing him away from the microphone. “Star-Spangled _Man_! Man! Not boy! It wasn’t _that_ kind of show, guys!” He tried to glare at Bucky, but he was enjoying the moment too much so Steve just shook his head. “Thanks for your question.”

“Okay, you and then maybe one or two more and we’ve run out of time,” Jarett said, gesturing to the people by the standing microphones. 

“Quick! Do it, let’s go!” Bucky said, waving his hand.

“Hi, this question is for James – umm can we call you _Bucky_ now that it’s out – that’s such a cute nickname by the way. Did Steve give it to you?”

“Is that your question?” Bucky said, raising his eyebrows.

“No, oh no—it’s just that it’s a cute nickname. It fits you.“

He cocked his head and gave the fan his best smile. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh? Why not, darling, it’s no skin off my nose. Bucky is a nickname from one of my sisters, you guys, it’s no big deal. Go on with your question.”

“My question is, how did Boston rich boy Chris Evans get to be best friends with Sebastian Stan? Did they go to the same school at one point?”  

He glanced at Phil and then at Steve. “Well, like Phil said, we get to know more about Sebastian’s back story mid-season. I guess it seems like an odd friendship on paper, right? Chris is from a big, wealthy, political family; Sebastian’s from more humble beginnings but makes it as a senior field agent at the Agency. They’re both smart guys, they’re ambitious, they’re patriotic. They probably met in a bar somewhere, had a couple of drinks – you know, that’s how guys become friends. We have a couple of beers, we might watch the game that’s playing in the bar, and if we can stand each other at the end of the night, we’ll hang out again. It doesn’t have to be some epic, grandiose meeting.”

“Actually, I’d like to hear what Steve thinks,” the fan said, chuckling.

“Didn’t like my answer, did you? Not exciting enough for you,” Bucky conceded, looking at Steve.

Steve shrugged. “Well, you know, I like James’s theory for how they met.” He grinned, looking at everyone. “I think they probably met at school—“

“You can call him Bucky in public now,” the fan said, cheekily.

Bucky winked at him and said in a teasing tone, “yeah, Rogers, you can call me Bucky in public now.”

“Thanks for your permission.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I think Chris and Sebastian did meet at school—“

“Like, um, in a public school?” The fan pressed.

“Are you saying that Chris Evans is so elitist that he wouldn’t attend a public school?” Steve asked, his eyes wide with surprise. “I mean, come on—“

Bucky snorted. “Depends on where you live in Boston. Besides, I think it was probably mentioned in a throwaway line that Sebastian went to a prep school somewhere in New York State.”

“Actually, James is correct,” Phil said, his firm tone ending the debate. “Of course, more to come mid-season. Maybe even a flashback.”

“Okay, we have time for one last question. Next! Yes, you there, come up to the mic,” Jarett said, waving his hand to the fan on the other side of the room.

“Hi! Hi, everyone!”

Steve chuckled. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Bucky called. “What’s your question?”

“My question is for Phil, but you guys can chime in if you want,” the fan said, a little tremor in her voice.

“Go on,” Phil said, invitingly.

“So if Sebastian’s on the run in season 2, when is he going to have time to, um, hook up with Chris?” The room broke out in a wave of hoots and laughter. “I’m just asking what everyone is probably thinking.” She laughed, putting her hand over her mouth as her cheeks flushed red. “So, Chris and Sebastian kiss in the last ten seconds of the season finale; Sebastian’s a bad guy; and Chris is chasing him all over the place – are we ever going to actually see them in, um, _action_?”

Steve blushed and ducked his head, looking over at Bucky, who was smiling and staring out at the audience.

Phil cleared his throat. “Well, that is a very good question. I’m sure that at some point during this chase, Chris and Sebastian will cross paths a number of times, and in between heated exchanges of gunfire, they may actually address their relationship with—“

“Angry sex,” Bucky interjected with his deadpan delivery.

Steve blushed even more and shook his head, lips pressed into a smile.

Phil was so unflustered. “Of course James is correct; there is a deep emotional connection between these two characters.”

Steve stared at Phil as Bucky cracked up, biting his bottom lip as he gazed at Steve.

“Stay tuned,” Phil said, calmly. “Thank you.”

“Last words?” Jarett said, looking at Steve and Bucky.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming out and supporting the show. We really appreciate everyone being here today for our panel and…” Steve looked at Bucky for help.

“And for all the love,” Bucky added, smiling out at the audience. “We wouldn’t be here without all of you, so thanks.”

“Thank you!” Jarett said, as everyone started to clap and cheer loudly. “I’d like to thank our special guests today – Phil Coulson, Steve Rogers, and James Barnes! ‘Agency’ is on Wednesday nights, everyone! Season 2 premiere is on September 9th!”

Phil, Steve and Bucky got to their feet, all of them waving their hands in thanks. Bucky put his arm around Steve’s shoulders, tugging him down slightly, laughing against the side of his head. The noise followed them out to the hallway where a dozen security guards and three handlers were waiting for them to take them to their next station.

“I’ll see you boys tomorrow morning, try to stay out of trouble,” Phil said, breaking off with his security and handler as they rushed him across the main floor to a set of side doors, disappearing in a smooth navy blue flash.

“That was fun,” Bucky said, staying tucked against Steve as they made their way to another set of doors that would get them out of the main hallway. “Just think, we can do this again tomorrow, but at least everyone will be on that panel.”

Steve was glad for that, too; he couldn’t wait to see everyone and be on the panel together. He liked that it was with the full cast, Phil, a couple of the head writers – it took a lot of the pressure off Steve and he could actually just enjoy being there with his friends.

“Okay, Mr Rogers, Mr Barnes, this is your photo session. We have 60 VIP holders and 140 ticket holders waiting in line for you today,” their handler – Rose, according to her nametag – told them as the convention hall security opened the side door going into a smaller ballroom. There was a simple white backdrop, lights, and a professional camera set up with a table and laptop with three photo printers set up beside it. “We’ll give you 10 minutes to kind of chill and then start bringing in the VIPs in groups of ten. After your VIP session, there’s a quick 20 minute meet and greet with them. Then we’ll open the line for the other ticket holders and line them up. Some of them may ask you to hold a prop or a funny pose. If you don’t feel comfortable doing something, just say no or wave one of us down and we’ll take care of it. There’s a table set up over there for you with an assortment of goodies. Do you need anything? If you need something specific, one of the runners can get it for you. No? You guys all set? Okay. Just hold here for a minute. Thank you.”  

And then she was off, speaking into her headset and checking in with the photographer and two her assistants.

Steve and Bucky shared a look.

“Wow.”

“I think I should’ve taken notes,” Bucky said, shaking his head.

“I need some water,” Steve said, heading towards the snack table. His eyes lit up with all the different types of candies spread out on the table in neat little bowls. “Bucky, they got us penny candy.”

“This reminds me of the penny candy that you can only get on Coney Island,” Bucky said, indulging in his sweet tooth.

“Do you think they brought in the candy just for us? If they did, I need to thank someone for this.”

“Maybe we can take this back to the room?” Bucky said, filling up his pockets with candy.

Steve laughed, watching him. “You can take the boy out of Brooklyn, but you can’t take the Brooklyn out of the boy, huh?”

Bucky made a face at him. “It’s penny candy, Steve.”

“Hey, guys,” a perky young woman said as she walked towards them. “I’m Emily, your photographer. That’s Jan and Margot. Do you want to get a couple of warm up shots, just the two of you, before everyone starts coming in?”

“Oh yes, thank you, that would be great,” he said, looking at Bucky.

“Sure, let’s do it,” Bucky said, grabbing another handful of candy and putting all of it into his mouth. “ _Wuterweababbterdis_?”

“What?” Steve said, grinning.

Bucky chomped through the candy and then took a long drink of his soda. “I said, what do we have after the photo shoots?”

“Autographs in the main hall somewhere. Rose or someone will probably take us. But we’re done for rest of the day.”

“Great. I’ll text Natasha to come down and meet us at our room and we’ll take the girls out,” Bucky said, pulling out his phone and sending a text message with just his thumb. “And done.” He grinned, putting the phone away into his back pocket. “We ready?”

“Sure,” he said, standing next to Bucky in front of the white background. He flung his arm behind Bucky’s shoulders, hand resting on the curve of his shoulder.

Emily stood behind the camera, smiling at them. “Well, boys?”

“We have a bet on which one of you is taller,” Rose called from the side of the room.

Steve laughed. “Oh, definitely me.”

“Yeah, _now_. He used to be smaller,” Bucky called, smiling. “And then he came to Hollywood and started working out with a personal trainer.”

“Erskine,” Steve said, fondly. “I swear he was as old as Hollywood itself.”

 

 

Bucky slapped Steve’s chest playfully. “Make a face.”

“Like a _funny_ face or—“

“No, try to look serious.”

Steve snickered, trying to pull a serious face and failing. “I don’t think I can right now.”

Bucky glanced at him and sighed. “I can’t look at you; you’re going to crack me up.”

Steve held his smile and snorted out of his nose. “I’m going to have to hold my breath.”

Bucky cracked up, bending over slightly trying to catch his breath.

Steve looked at Emily and at Rose. “I think we’re all warmed up now.”

“Let loose the hounds,” Rose called to one of the other handlers.

Bucky snorted, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. His smile was wide and loose, eyes bright under the lights, and Steve thought he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.


	2. ACT ONE: The Pay Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES: I’m following CA:Winter Soldier movie!verse Smithsonian scene where Bucky is the oldest of four. Tribeca Film Festival is usually held in April, but for the timeline of this fic, I’ve moved it to late July.
> 
> IMAGES: Google.

 

**_31 Pineapple Street_ **

**_Brooklyn Heights_ **

 

Steve might have teased Bucky about not taking Brooklyn out of the boy, but it was Steve who couldn’t leave his beloved neighborhood behind. In the early years of his career, he lived in Los Angeles because that was where the jobs were, but he hated being there and finally moved back home. His agent protested, arguing that Steve was still too unknown, that he needed to be able to just drop everything and go to an audition.

_“I can always send in audition tape or fly back to LA,” Steve said, tiredly. “And there are jobs that I can book out in New York, too. I’ve got a good reel and I know I can find more work.”_

_“You want to take that risk?”_

_Steve stared at her. “It’s not a risk; it’s my life.”_

Bucky liked LA well enough and rented a tiny bedroom in a house in Hollywood Hills, had five rowdy housemates who were all looking for their big break, and opted not to get a place of his own because he traveled so much for jobs. Steve thought his wanderlust probably bit when Bucky joined the Army right out of high school, being stationed all over the world and living out of his duffel. 

“Your ma called me this morning, told me to tell you that you should settle down,” Steve said, smiling down at the sketch pad on his lap, using his pinky to create soft shadows and dimension.

“No point in putting down roots now that we’re back home,” Bucky said, his Brooklyn accent slipping in a little sharper now that they were home. He grinned and sprawled across Steve’s couch. “It’s not like I’m anywhere for any real length of time.”

“She also said that you ought to save your money and quit spoiling your sisters. And you’re not allowed to buy Caroline a car.”

Bucky snorted. “I’m more afraid of her than I am of ma.”

He considered that for a moment and then met Bucky’s amused gaze and nodded his agreement. Bucky was the oldest of four sisters – Rebecca was a year younger than Bucky and happily married to a dentist with their second child on the way, Julia was in med school, Anne was a senior in high school, and Caroline had just turned sixteen – they were all Brooklyn born and bred, and they could wisecrack and hold their own in any situation. Being a card carrying Barnes also meant that they were whip smart, loyal, and not afraid to speak their mind.

“Your ma said that _I_ wasn’t allowed to buy Caroline a car either,” he added, smiling.

“You spoil them more than I do.”

Bucky _did_ spoil his sisters, but it was in the way the oldest son stepped up as the man of the family to do right. Part of the reason why Bucky joined the Army out of high school was so that his ma didn’t have to pay for his way. They all knew that Bucky took the riskiest assignments because he’d get hazard pay and he could send money home to his ma. Steve knew that when Bucky started to make money from acting, he bought his mom and sisters a beautiful 5-bedroom house on Staten Island. He paid for both of his sisters’ college tuition and when Anne and Caroline graduated high school, Bucky would pay for theirs, too.  

Steve became an honorary member of the Barnes family when he was a scrawny ten-year old and Bucky brought him home after getting beat up in an alley.

_“Should’ve seen him, ma,” Bucky said, boastfully. “Wouldn’t stay down when that jerkface Brock kept hitting him. Didn’t even cry either.”_

_Mrs. Winifred Barnes cleaned up the cuts on Steve’s face with a gentle hand. “Now, Steven, you know that fighting is bad.”_

_“Yeah, but getting punched in the face isn’t all that good either, ma.”_

_“You should just run away.”_

_Steve winced when he tried to grin. “Yes, ma’am, but then they’d just keep coming back to beat me up if I don’t stand up for myself.”_

_Bucky laughed. “See, ma, you and pop should adopt him.”_

And after his beloved ma passed, Steve was officially part of the Barnes family. Bucky’s ma ran after Steve in the same way that she ran after Bucky and the girls. So when Steve started making more money than he knew what to do with, he asked if he could help.

_Bucky grinned, curling his arm around Steve’s neck. “You know ma won’t take your money; but I’m not going to stop you if you want to give her and the girls nice things.”_

So with Bucky’s approval, “nice things” could be anything from a new kitchen remodeling or a new car or a secret trust fund.

“You have got to stop ratting me out to ma all the time, pal,” he said, chuckling. Steve smiled at the sound of Bucky’s laugh, pulling him out of his memories. “It’s bad enough that my sisters are always telling her stuff they read in the tabloids –“

“Most of which are true—“

“—not true!” Bucky protested, glaring at him. His face softened as he grinned. “They tell her about _your_ tabloid stories, too.”

“Yes, but your ma doesn’t believe a single one of them. Unlike you, she knows I’m a good boy.”

Bucky made a face and then sighed. “Punk. I’m going to officially disown you from the Barnes family.”

“Good luck with that,” he said, laughing at Bucky’s mulish expression.  

Part of the reason why Steve wanted to be back in Brooklyn was so he could be closer to the Barnes family. He wasn’t _lonely_ living in LA – there were endless amusements for anyone inclined – but Steve missed family, he missed the seasons, and he missed feeling like he belonged. So when Steve booked ‘Agency’ and found out that the show would film on location in New York City, he was _so_ happy – so happy to set down roots. He bought a renovated carriage house in Brooklyn Heights and tagged one of his guestrooms as Bucky’s whenever he was in town. Bucky lived at his ma’s house _“because she still makes the best food hands down”_ and crashed with Steve on the weekends _“because she doesn’t need to see me hung over.”_ Steve was pretty sure that Bucky had an apartment somewhere in the city, but he didn’t spend a lot of time there.

“Quit moving around so much,” Steve said, making wide strokes with the charcoal, trying to capture the curve of Bucky’s shoulder.

“You almost done? My left arm fell asleep. Let’s walk to Montague and get something to eat, I’m starving,” Bucky said, trying to keep his pose on the couch – back against the couch arm, left elbow propped against the cushion, right leg pulled up, and right arm dangling over the knee.

Bucky, who had already spent half his life as Steve’s artist model, didn’t even think to refuse when Steve asked him to pose for him while he was taking drawing classes at The Pratt Institute during their short hiatus. Steve liked to stay in the city whenever he had free time; but Bucky bounced around, visiting his old Army buddies – Morita in San Francisco or Dum Dum in Boston – or took his family on an all-expenses paid four-country tour of Europe. Steve was genuinely surprised and pleased that Bucky was going to stay in town the next three weeks and Steve quickly rounded him up for modeling duties.  

_“Take off your shirt.”_

_“Ohh! Take off my shirt. Not even going to buy me dinner first. You didn’t tell me that this was going to be a naked modeling session,” he teased, pulling off his faded Captain America tee-shirt and tossing it at Steve. “Make sure you get the details of my dick right.”_

_He caught the shirt in the air and set it on a nearby armchair. “You’re not going to be naked and you can keep your dick to yourself. Besides, I’m pretty sure everybody already knows what it looks like anyway ever since you did that hooker movie.”_

_“Hooker movie! Excuse you, that was a classic Roman Coppola indie,” Bucky said, laughing good-naturedly._

_“Your ma banned you from going to church with her and your sisters for six months because of that movie.”_

_He watched as Bucky smiled up at him, eyes going wide as he bit his plump bottom lip._

_Oh yes, Steve was very familiar with that look. Growing up, Steve had watched girls and boys fall all over themselves after Bucky when he made that practiced not-so-innocent expression, and now anyone who had watched that hooker movie got to see it, too. And then some._

_Steve watched it once and wouldn’t allow himself to watch it again._

_“Don’t give me that look. Just get on the couch, on your back.”_

_Bucky snorted and fell back on the couch, arms and legs askew. “Yes, sir, Mr Rogers, sir.”_

_Steve gave him a look and arranged Bucky’s arms and legs, trying to find that perfect pose – comfortable enough for Bucky to hold for a couple of hours; challenging enough to distract Steve from staring at Bucky for a couple of hours. He took a step back and looked over Bucky’s body with an artist’s eye – long stretches of tanned skin covering long and lean muscles, the dark rose of his small nipples, the outline of his collarbones, a trail of dark hair that led from his belly button to under the waist of his jeans. Bucky was quiet under Steve’s almost impersonal gaze, used to the way that Steve evaluated his form._

_He frowned at the way that the waistband of Bucky’s jeans cut into the sharp line of his hip, breaking the curves and lines of his body._

_“Undo your jeans.”_

_Bucky raised his eyebrows and licked his lips slowly. “Not that kind of session, huh?” Steve watched as Bucky’s fingers toyed with the button. “Usually, I get paid a lot of money for this kind of thing.”_

_Steve blushed and turned away, picking up his large sketchbook. “It just looked like your jeans were cutting into your circulation.” Bucky laughed, loudly. “Never mind, if you start to cramp or need to stretch, just tell me and we can take a break.”_

_He didn’t make eye contact with Bucky and sat down in the armchair on the other side of the coffee table, raising the sketch pad and trying not to look like he was hiding behind it. He grabbed a stub of charcoal and made a few strokes along the right hand corner. He tilted his head to glance at Bucky, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. He ducked back behind his pad, making loose circles on the paper. When he looked at Bucky again, he was staring off into the distance, getting into his usual zone._

_Steve thought he should’ve just hired a professional artist model._

“Wait, hang on for a second, my arm feels like it’s going to fall off.”

“Go on, take a break,” Steve said, setting his sketch pad on the coffee table and tossing the charcoal stub into his art supply box. “You want some water?”

“Beer,” he called, getting to his feet and stretching out his arms and back.

Steve crossed the open expanse of the living room to the kitchen, trying not to turn back and stare at Bucky, who was now making all sorts of moans and groans as he stretched out his muscles. He stood in the kitchen, looking at the way that the muscles bunched and released on Bucky’s back; the scar line that started on the nape of his neck and curved along his shoulder blade to disappear under his left arm, a remnant of Bucky’s military service. Steve pulled out two bottles from the fridge and took a deep, steadying breath as he hid behind the opened refrigerator door. He kicked the door close gently with his foot and walked towards Bucky, watching the way the faded jeans hugged over Bucky’s round ass as he bent over, grabbing the back of his legs.

“You done?” Steve said, keeping his voice light.  

Bucky let out a breathless laugh as he stood up, reaching for his beer. “Thanks, pal.”  

Steve watched as Bucky walked to the glass doors, looking out at the garden in the backyard. He smiled at the way that the sunlight lit up his eyes, shadows of his eyelashes on his cheeks. He itched to get his sketch pad and start drawing again, but Bucky would just laugh and roll his eyes.

_“Don’t you get tired of drawing me all the time?”_

_Steve shrugged. He probably had hundreds of sketches of Bucky, going back to when he was a teenager. “Makes it easier for me…since I’m…uh, pretty familiar with how you look and all.”_

_“Okay, pal, just saying. I wouldn’t be insulted if you wanted to draw other people.”_

Steve flipped through the mail on his desk when he came across a large envelope.

“Hey, did you get your invite to the Tribeca Film Festival Opening Night Gala?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding. “I promised Rebecca that I’d take her, but Caroline’s sixteen now and ma gave her permission to attend events with me, but Rebecca will kill me if I bail on her. She’s the only one in the family who loves movies as much as I do, and when she has the baby, she won’t have a lot of free time to go out anymore so…”

Steve grinned. “Hey, I don’t have a date so I can take Caroline if it’s okay with you and your ma.”

Bucky leaned against the doorway, turning to look at him. “You’re not going to ask Peggy out?”

“Peggy?”

“Yeah, Peggy Carter, our co-star, sexy as hell British accent, only has eyes for you and I’m invisible whenever you’re around, that Peggy,” Bucky said, smiling at him.

He shrugged. “Well, isn’t it kind of awkward since we work together?”

“It doesn’t have to be awkward.”

Steve flipped through the other mail on his desk to keep his hands busy, a pained smile on his face. Bucky, despite his public reputation as a bit of a playboy, had only had three relationships – all with co-stars; all still friendly with Bucky after their break-ups – but Steve didn’t know if he could date someone he worked with; didn’t know if he could still work with them after breaking up. Steve liked meeting new people, but he was self-aware to know that he was the kind of man who married his high school sweetheart.

If he had a high school sweetheart.

Well, in some _alternative_ _universe_ where his high school sweetheart was Bucky Barnes.  

“Still think it’s awkward,” he grumbled, tossing the envelopes on his desk.

“Not as awkward as being seen out with a minor?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Buck, everyone knows that your sisters are like my own,” Steve said, making a face at him.

Bucky laughed at him and took another drink of his beer. He gave Steve a small smile. “Thanks, pal, you saved my neck. Caroline will be completely ecstatic. Ma said that she got a new dress and everything so…”

Steve smiled, warmth spreading through his chest. “It’s no problem.”

“I’ll totally pay you back for it, though,” Bucky said, giving him a sly wink. “Maybe set up something special for you and Peggy.”

“No, really, don’t do that, Bucky, don’t,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Just don’t, okay?”

Bucky walked towards him and Steve swallowed thickly, trying not to stare at the way that Bucky moved, limber and unconsciously sexy, unbuttoned jeans riding low on his hips, the gorgeous lines of his muscles under his skin.

It was almost pathetic, the torch that he carried for Bucky. Steve sometimes thought back to all the times over the years when he had the chance to say something to Bucky but didn’t take it; a moment when he could’ve just told him “ _hey Buck, I’m in love with you_ ” – if anything so that Bucky, that _someone,_ would know how Steve felt. He didn’t expect anything from Bucky, maybe just a simple acknowledgement of _“okay, pal”_ and Steve could’ve gone on with his life.

But this – keeping this inside for so long, with no intention of doing anything about it – this _crush_ Steve had on his best friend, he needed to nip it in the bud. It was time to grow out of his fantasy that he and Bucky would just miraculously fall in love. And then what? Steve actually hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Bucky stopped in front of Steve, wide eyes looking at him. “What’s going on with you?”

“What?”

“You’re acting weird,” Bucky murmured, looking him over.

Steve had spent years looking at Bucky, but he’d never been examined in the same way. There was no reason for Bucky to stare at him, to look at Steve’s face or his body or anything beyond the familiar, cursory glance of a best friend.

He froze as Bucky continued to stare at him, cool blue-gray eyes sweeping him head to toe, and then meeting Steve’s nervous gaze. He tilted his head slightly, eyebrows furrowing slightly, lips pursed in thoughtful consideration. It was _unnerving_ to be scrutinized by Bucky. People only saw Bucky for his pretty face or his full-on-swagger public persona; they didn’t know that his natural acting talent came from his sharp analysis of people.

“I’m not acting weird, Bucky.” Steve played it off and took a step to move away, but felt Bucky’s hand curl around his arm, stopping him. Steve felt his thumb stroke along the soft skin of his inner elbow, his heart jumping in his chest.

“Sure you are,” Bucky said, looking at him, searchingly. “What’s wrong?”

Steve met his gaze, maintaining eye contact but not staring. He calmed his breathing and kept his lips loose, slightly parted. “It’s nothing, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, face all seriousness.

“You forget that I know you, pal, and I _know_ this is you trying to lie to me but I haven’t figured out why.” Bucky gave him a small smile. “You never could lie to me, you know that, right?”

He laughed and shook off Bucky’s hold on him, picking up his beer bottle and going into the kitchen to dump out the remainder in the sink. “Don’t pull any of your military mind game training on me, Bucky. You promised to use your powers for good, not personal gain.”

Bucky followed him to the kitchen and leaned his elbows on the counter, grinning slightly. “I don’t need any mind game training when it comes to you, Steve. I have nearly 20 years of intel on you to draw my own conclusions.”

Steve raised his eyebrow and wondered if Bucky had figured out that Steve had a crush on him.

Then why hadn’t _he_ said or done anything about it? Steve didn’t want to think about why Bucky _wouldn’t_ make a move.

“James, there is nothing wrong. Accept it and move on,” Steve said, gently.

Bucky smirked. “Now I know you’re trying to pull one over on me.” He sighed and propped his chin against his hand. “All right, Steven, have it your way. But you know you can tell me anything, right? Best pal and all.”

“I know,” he said, smiling warmly at Bucky. “Come on, put on your shirt, let’s walk down to Montague. I’m in the mood for Italian.”

Bucky groaned. “No, I can’t afford to carb up like that, I have a photo shoot in two days. Sushi?”

“Sushi it is.”

*****

**_ _ **

**_Tribeca Film Festival_ **

**_Opening Night Gala_ **

 

Steve normally didn’t care for all the red carpet hoopla that went hand-in-glove with his work, but he knew it was a necessity and tried to find something to enjoy about them. Most of the time, he was able to reconnect with friends and former co-stars, catching up in 30-second intervals before their own PR people rushed them past with promises to text or call later.

But tonight, he was especially pleased to be Caroline’s escort, watching the way her eyes widened and cheeks flushed whenever someone “famous” came up to Steve to say hello.

“This is Caroline Barnes,” he said, introducing her to everyone they encountered.

“Ma is never going to believe that Ms. Meryl Streep thought my dress was pretty!” Caroline hissed at him, clutching at his arm. “Ohmygod, she was so nice in real life!”

“Most actors are nice in real life. Bucky and I are nice in real life.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Yes, but you guys don’t count, you’re normal. I grew up with you. It’s no big deal.”

“They’re just normal people, too, you know.”

She stayed close when Steve had to hit the press line; shy and nervous over the attention of the sheer number of cameras and flashing lights and the endlessly stupid questions.

One of the reporters asked Caroline for her age.

“I’m sixteen,” she said, unthinkingly.

“Steve, isn’t she a little young?” Someone called to him.

“Oh, man, Rogers, you had us fooled!”

“None of us thought you’d go for jailbait!”

Caroline made a face and rolled her eyes. “Excuse me!”

“Don’t call her that.” He glared at the press, tucking her hand into the safety of his arm. “She’s my sister.”

“Bucky and Steve are my big brothers; don’t be stupid or gross,” Caroline called out to them and then turned her back, looking up at Steve. “Are you done?”

“I’m done,” he said, smiling, taking her out of the line and ignoring the people calling his name.

He walked them towards Bucky and Rebecca who were already at the end of the press line. Steve smiled at how luminous Rebecca looked in her long dark blue dress, gloriously 7-months pregnant and beautiful. When they started the line, Steve had overhead someone asking Bucky about the identity of “his secret pregnant girlfriend” and Bucky shouting at them to “calm the hell down, this is my sister, Mrs Rebecca Barnes Proctor!”

“Bucky! Ohmygod!” They turned when Caroline called for Bucky, waving to him. “Ohmygod, Bucky, these people are fucking vultures!” She said, loudly. “Did you hear what that one asshole said? He called me jailbait! And he implied that Steve was a child molester!”

Steve winced, shaking his head.

Bucky snapped his head towards the press, eyebrows furrowed angrily. “Fucking dicks. Which one said it? I’ll go straighten this out, right the hell now.”

Because he would. Bucky wouldn’t care if he was caught on camera beating the crap out of a tabloid reporter, he’d go to jail defending his sisters. He wasn’t normally hotheaded, but no one messed with a Barnes sister.

“Bucky, don’t do anything stupid—“ Steve said, trying to avoid a potential tabloid front page mess.

“Mr. Barnes. Mr. Rogers. Let’s get you away from the _live_ microphones and cameras,” one of the event handlers said, her eyes wide as she waved her hands towards the entrance way into the building, trying to herd them away from the press.

“Come on, Bucky,” Rebecca said, putting her hand on Bucky’s arm. “My feet are killing me, let’s go sit down.”

That pulled Bucky out of his anger and he carefully tucked his sister against him, hurrying her inside. Steve sighed and looked at Caroline, anxiously.

“Are you okay?”

“Shit, is it always like this?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he said, shrugging. He held out his arm and she held onto it, her hand trembling slightly. He patted her hand and let her hold onto his fingers as he led her into the building, looking around to see Bucky standing at a table, waving for their attention.

“I’m going to get drinks,” Bucky said, going across the room to the open bar, nodding to Steve to keep an eye on his sisters.

“Can I have champagne?” Caroline called.

“No,” he said, over his shoulder.

She grinned. “Hey, I tried.”

Rebecca got to her feet. “Excuse me, I’m going to find a restroom.”

“Want me to help?” Caroline offered, getting to her feet.

“No, you stay here with Steve,” Rebecca said, chuckling. “Steve, watch her, keep her out of trouble.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, giving her a little salute. He turned to look at Caroline. “Sorry about all that back there. It’s not personal, you know?”

Caroline snorted and rolled her eyes. “That’s bullshit, of course it’s personal. Otherwise, they wouldn’t try to get a rise out of all these famous people.”

Steve nodded and looked across the room, seeing Bucky at the bar, flirting with the pretty bartender.

“You’re always staring at him.”

“What?” He said, turning to look at Caroline.

“You do it a lot, actually.”

Steve blushed and shook his head. “I’m just looking out for him, that’s all.”

“Right,” Caroline said, giggling. “Bucky spent like eight years in the military as a sniper and interrogator and only God and Bucky know what he’s had to do. He’s not some innocent lamb who doesn’t know what’s what.”

Steve opened his mouth and just stared at her.

“How do you know what Bucky did in the military?”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “He told ma. When he came home, he had a lot of nightmares, woke up the whole neighborhood with his screaming. Ma was the only one who could get him to calm down. I heard him telling her about all the people he had to kill; all the nasty, hard stuff he had to do.”

“You shouldn’t have heard any of that,” he said, softly. “Bucky wouldn’t want you to know.”

“What I’m trying to say is that he’s not going to break. He’s a Barnes and a Barnes don’t break like glass, Steve.”

Steve chuckled, looking away. “I don’t think I should be talking to you about this.”

“Why not? Listen, Steve, I’m not a kid, okay. I’m not even a virgin and Bucky’s always been kind of a slut anyway, no surprise, and you’ve been kind of in love with him since like forever. Duh. You’re like, what, 30-years old now? Are _you_ still a virgin? Is that why you won’t ask my brother out?”

He felt his face burn red. “Caroline—“

“Seriously, are you going to just pine away for him until you’re like 70-years old?”

Steve looked up to see Bucky walking towards them, one hand tucked into the pocket of his pants.

“He’s coming over,” he said, out of the corner of his mouth, putting a cheerful smile on his face. “Hey.”

“Where’s Rebecca?”

“I’m right here. I swear, you mother hen me more than my own husband,” she said, sitting down slowly with a relieved smile on her face. “Of course, I’m going to have to go again in another 15-minutes.”

Bucky stood behind her, his hands massaging her shoulders.  “If Dan didn’t mother hen you, then I’d have to speak to him, man to man.”

“Do you think it would be improper if you massaged my feet, too?” Rebecca said, looking up at him.

Bucky laughed. “You want? I don’t care what people think.”

“Did you forget the drinks while you were flirting with the bartender?” Steve said, sarcastically, and immediately wished that he had kept his mouth shut.

All three of the Barnes siblings turned and stared at him in varying shades of disbelief and surprise. Caroline raised her eyebrow at him and smirked, shaking her head.

“I asked the bartender if she could have a waitress bring the drinks to our table,” Bucky said, carefully.

“Okay…sorry…” Steve said, sheepishly. “I think I’m still kind of wound up from the press line.”

 _“Uh-huh,”_ Caroline muttered, under her breath.

Bucky took a deep breath and gave Steve a long look. “Okay, pal, you and I are going to have a long talk later.”

“Someone’s in trouble,” Caroline sing-songed, cackling.

Rebecca leaned over to Caroline. “What did I miss?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Bucky raised his eyebrow and stared at Steve.  

_Damn it, Caroline was right, Steve was in trouble._


	3. ACT TWO: The Beats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES: A lot of logistical/time adjustments were made for the story. The Kent Avenue flea market opens in April and is held on Sundays. Steve is not a full-time art student at the Pratt Institute (hey, he's a famous actor, he gets a special dispensation as an extension student). 
> 
> IMAGES: Google.
> 
> FAKE TEXT: Mine.

“Tell me.”

Bucky grabbed a handful of Steve’s hair and tugged his head back, licking up the side of his neck. Steve moaned, his hands grabbing for Bucky’s shoulders.

“What’re you hiding from me, baby?” Bucky whispered against his ear, teeth nipping on his earlobe.

Steve shuddered, squeezing his eyes closed. “Bucky…”

He sucked in his breath when Bucky reached up and grabbed Steve by the wrists, holding them down on the bed beside his head.

“Look at me!”

Steve opened his eyes and stared up at the furious expression on Bucky’s face.

“Traffic around midtown is going to be a little rough this morning due to the three car accident, expect delays.”

“What?” Steve said, panting slightly.

Bucky smirked down at him, his long hair hanging down over his face. “If you run, I’ll catch you.”

Steve inhaled and opened his eyes, startling out of his dream, and found himself curled up on his side on his bed. His bedside clock radio had clicked on at 7 AM and he flicked his eyes at the digital screen to see that it was 7:12. The morning traffic news had filtered into his dream. He moaned and freed his arms, pulling them out from under the covers. He looked down at his body, wondering how he had gotten wrapped up in the covers like a burrito.

He turned on his back and stared up at the ceiling, feeling horny, his hard cock trapped against his thigh, a wet spot seeping through his boxers, and he kind of felt morose about it. It had been a long time since he’d had a sexy dream about Bucky. He closed his eyes and shook his head. It wasn’t even all that sexy. Rough sex didn’t do it for him. His heart was racing and anxiety shot through his chest. He was pretty sure that his dreams lately had to do with his subconscious trying to deal with his guilt at ignoring Bucky since the Opening Night Gala four days ago.

_Okay, pal, you and I are going to have a long talk later._

It made him wince to think about what Bucky would want to talk about. He rarely ever avoided Bucky, their long friendship giving each of them enough strength to work through any issues or problems or petty anger or jealousies without worrying that one of them would ever walk away.

_I’m with you to the end of the line._

That whole “to the end of the line” in the script was something that the writers overhead Bucky say to Steve and Phil had asked if they could use it for the show to anchor their characters’ friendship. But it was more than just lines in a script, it was deeply personal to both Steve and Bucky, and they didn’t know if it would cheapen the meaning in their own lives if it was scripted.

_“Let’s use it,” Bucky said, looking at Steve with a small smile. “People will get it, get them, and we won’t have to go through all that exposition about who they are to each other.”_

_Steve took a deep breath. “You sure? I mean, once that’s out there, and if anyone ever heard us say that, they’ll just think it’s from the show.”_

_“You care what people think?”_

_“Well, yeah, I guess so,” he said, shrugging. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to share that; it was bad enough that he had to share Bucky with everyone else. “It’s private, Bucky.”_

_Bucky nodded. “All right, then we tell them to nix it.”_

_It took Steve a few days to really consider it; and when he got the “Family of Choice” script and saw the original line that they had written for the hospital scene, it didn’t sound real enough to Steve._

_“Yeah, the line sucks, it’s so fucking cheesy,” Bucky agreed, snorting._

_“Then maybe we should change it.”_

_“It’s up to you, Steve.”_

_He called Phil and said it was okay to use the line; and part of him wondered if the writers intentionally wrote the most stupid lines for them so that Steve would give in. He hated to think that he was being used like that, but he found consolation in the fact that the scene would ring true._

Steve stretched under the covers and sat up slowly, pushing the twisted sheets and quilt off. He felt restless and unnerved and stupidly pathetic. He thought he should go for a long run along the Promenade; work this out of his system. He had his drawing class at the Pratt Institute in the afternoon. There were a few things he wanted to do in the city – _oh, who was he kidding_? He was only going out in the city to make sure that he could avoid Bucky.  

*****

Steve loved people watching.

He pulled on his old Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap, tossed his art supplies and sketch book into his messenger bag, and went out to the city, not even trying to keep up with the pace of the people around him. He was always drawn to museums and galleries, had visited every single one he could find, from the Met and Guggenheim to small, independent galleries scattered throughout Manhattan. He was partial to the Brooklyn Museum and spent most of his morning there, completely enraptured by the moody Russian painters and sketching in his sketch book.

 

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and he reached up to rub his neck, looking around. Steve had a good sixth sense for fan encounters and he could tell the difference between someone looking at him because he caught their eye or because they recognized him for his work. But there were only four people in the Russian paintings exhibition and no one was paying him any mind.

Shaking off the weirdness, he left the Brooklyn Museum to catch a taxi to Kent Avenue for the outdoor flea market. Anne’s birthday was coming up and he knew that she loved old fashioned jewelry. Steve was hoping to pick up some interesting pieces for her there; and to peruse all the food vendors who would be out as well.  

He was eating a hot dog when his phone beeped with incoming text notifications. He stared at the screen, chewing slowly.

He sat on the steps facing the East River and drank his water slowly. He read through the messages from Bucky several times, the nervousness settling in at the pit of his belly, and then thumbed his phone off before tucking it into his bag. The strangest feeling came over him and he ducked his head, looking around, seeing unfamiliar faces in the crowd. No one was paying attention to him, but he felt like someone was watching. Quickly, he finished his lunch and made sure to put his trash in the correct recycle bins before moving off.

Across town, Grand Central Station was always a fun place to hang out. He spent far too much time at the Apple store on the 2nd floor balcony overlooking the Main Concourse, drooling at all the new Macs and iPads and accessories. He bought a coffee and made his way to a quiet part of the balcony, leaning against the low marble wall to do a quick sketch of the wide arcs and architectural trim. He loved looking at the blue-green ceiling, his eyes tracing the backwards painted zodiac murals on the cathedral-like ceiling of the Main Concourse. He pulled out his phone and took a few pictures, determined to work on sketches later when he was home.

 

While making his way from the Main Concourse to Vanderbilt Hall, he was stopped a few times along the “Whispering Gallery” as fans came up to him to talk about his show and to ask to take pictures. Steve obliged as they were so polite and endearingly nervous to meet him and he told them to visit the secret-not-secret Campbell Apartment bar.

Steve hopped on the 7 train to Times Square and switched to the 1 going uptown on the West Side. A nice walk to one of the city’s hidden gems, the Baconery, had his mouth watering in anticipation. He walked into the small café on Columbus Avenue and took a deep breath, practically in heaven, as the manager of the cafe greeted him.

“Welcome back, Steve!”

“Hey, Abigail,” he said, standing in front of the glass display case, greedily staring at all the different chocolate and bacon confections neatly lined on trays. “Everything looks so good.”

“You always say that,” she noted, raising her eyebrows.

“Samples?” He said, hopefully.

Abigail laughed, pulling on a clean pair of disposable gloves, sliding open the door to the case. “Sure, what would you like to try?”

Steve gave her a bashful smile. “Everything?”

“You’re a glutton, Steve,” she murmured, picking up a few pieces and putting them on a small paper plate. “Gluttony is a sin, you know.”

“I think this is worth it,” he said, happily taking the plate from her. “Thank you, Abigail.”

He leaned his hip against the counter, taking small bites and letting out a little moan. He blushed, looking away, it sounded dirty even to his ears.

“Ohmygod, I swear, I’m going to get my phone and record you moaning and sell it to the tabloids! I could probably pay off my student loans with that footage,” she teased, shaking her head at him.

“I can’t help it,” he said, moaning again and closing his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m going to Hell,” she muttered, laughing at him.

“Do you have any Bacon Caramel today?”

“Sure do,” she said, closing the glass case and leaving Steve to his bacon chocolate indiscretions. “You want the usual two boxes?”

“I have to get them for Bucky or he’ll never forgive me.”

Or use them to get Bucky to forgive him for acting like such a jackass. He knew this was Bucky’s one true weakness, that he’d trade his left arm for a box of bacon chocolatey sin.

Abigail grinned at him. “He’s lucky to have you. You’re a good boyfriend, Steve.”

He choked on the piece of chocolate in his mouth and he started coughing up a storm. Abigail rolled her eyes and reached into the small refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of water, handing it to him. Steve nodded this thanks, his eyes starting to water, as he coughed again.

“I’m—I’m not—we’re not boyfriends,” he choked out, wiping his eyes with the hem of his shirt.

“I know,” she said, chuckling.

“Then why would you say that?”

Abigail shrugged. “The last time you guys were in here, you couldn’t keep your eyes off the food but Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.”

“Oh.” He drank some water, looking down at the counter.

“Anyway, I just thought that you guys were together but that you were just being discreet about it because of your work and stuff,” she said, kindly. “It’s not my business, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Steve smiled at her and nodded. “Thank you.” He put the cap back on the water bottle and took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t care if everyone knew…if I were with Bucky. I wouldn’t hide him. Us.”

He watched as her smile deepened, a blush forming on her cheeks. He reached for his wallet and handed her his card to pay for the sweets and the water.

“I put some of your favorites in there, too,” she told him, handing over a plastic bag with the Baconery logo on the front.

“Thank you,” he said, meeting her eyes. “I need to go, I have class this afternoon.”

“Have fun,” Abigail told him, grinning. “It’s always good to see you, Steve.”

“Likewise,” he called, waving his hand to her from the door.

“And bring your boy with you the next time you visit!”

Steve blushed and nodded, biting his lip. “Yes, ma’am!”  

***

 

**Pratt Institute**

**East Hall**

 

Steve pulled the strap of his messenger bag over his head, crossing it in front of his chest, his sketch book tucked under his arm. He pushed opened the door and stepped out into the early New York evening, enjoying how the city seemed to cool down a few degrees as the summer sun sank behind the tall buildings. He pulled out his phone from the outer pocket of his bag – six missed calls from Bucky and three voicemails; fourteen unread text messages, also from Bucky – trying to decide if he should call Bucky to explain—

“Rogers.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Bucky’s voice. He turned to see Bucky leaning against the wall by the bicycles, smoking a cigarette.

There were moments in life when Steve was grateful for his memory, that he could take a perfect mental snapshot of Bucky standing there looking undefinably sexy and deceptively available, to sketch him in his private sketch book.

“B-Bucky.”

“Been avoiding me,” he drawled, eyebrows rising slightly at Steve’s stutter.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve been busy.”

“Busy.” Bucky said, harshly, then inhaling deeply on his cigarette and exhaling through his nose. “So that’s your story. _Busy_.”

“Err…yeah.” He said, knowing that there was no way that he was going to be able to stick to his story.

Bucky would never use the manipulation skills he learned as a military interrogator outside of work, but he had years of experience talking to his younger sisters, gleaming out truth from fib. It was rare that Bucky would turn that kind of scrutiny on Steve, but Steve had never given him a reason to until now.

Bucky gave him a narrow-eyed glare. “Last chance.”

“I…don’t know what you’re talking about, but hey, it’s good to see you. Want to have dinner?”

Bucky huffed through his nose and looked away. “I’m fucking tired of this.”

“This?”

He gave Steve a long, unnerving stare, his eyes holding Steve’s gaze, and he found that he didn’t dare look away. He wondered if this was how _Sergeant Barnes_ looked when he walked into an interrogation room; if it freaked out the target as much as it did Steve.

“This morning, you went to the Brooklyn Museum for two hours and spent half an hour staring at your favorite Vereshchagin painting in the Russian Modern room.”

That explained why Steve felt like someone was watching him. _Bucky_ was watching him. God, had he followed Steve around the whole day?  

“How did—“

“How did I know where you were? Didn’t I tell you that I have 20 years of intel on you? I _know_ you, pal, I know you better than anyone else.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Come on, Buck, I just wanted a day—“

“Then, you walked through the Williamsburg flea market and I know you bought a bunch of vintage jewelry for Anne.”

“If you knew where I was, why didn’t you—“

“I’ve called and texted you all day; and I _know_ you got them because I saw you check your phone every time I left a message or sent a text and you _chose_ to ignore me. You chose to ignore me, Steve.”

Steve didn’t know what to say, he just stared at Bucky’s handsome face, his lips pressed into a tense line.

“Nothing to say to me?”

He dropped his gaze from Bucky and took a shuddering breath.

“All right. Let’s document the rest of your morning. You went to Grand Central and bought coffee and sketched for an hour. Six people recognized you and you took pictures with them; three of them already posted their pictures on Instagram. Then you went to the Baconery and charmed Abigail to give you free samples of everything, and then bought two boxes of Bacon Caramel, which you know are my favorites, which I assume you’re going to use to try to distract me.”

Steve opened the flap of his messenger bag and pulled out the plastic bag, holding it out to Bucky with a tentative smile.

Bucky looked tempted, so very tempted, and for a second, Steve thought that Bucky might just drop it and let it be, but he saw Bucky grit his teeth, glowering at him. Steve blushed, stupidly, dropping his hand to his side.

“And then you came here for your 2:30 drawing class.”

Steve swallowed, clutching his sketchbook and Baconery bag like a shield.

“Did I miss anything?”

He snorted. “I’m surprised you didn’t track how many times I went for a leak.”

“Three.” He threw his cigarette to the sidewalk and crushed it with the toe of his black boot.

Steve blinked.

Bucky took an aggressive step closer towards him, a hard and unmerciful look in his blue eyes. “Now, tell me to _my face_ that you weren’t ignoring me.”


	4. ACT THREE: Act Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I took a lot of artistic license and liberties with this chapter! Any weird mistakes are mine.
> 
> IMAGES: Google.
> 
> SCRIPT PAGES: Mine.

 

Steve met Bucky’s eyes; he’d never seen Bucky so angry at him, but worse than that, he could see how hurt Bucky was because of Steve. Bucky was the type of person who wore his heart on his sleeve. His years in the military taught him how to hide it, how to sublimate it, in order to survive the kind of things he’d had to do, but the bottom line was that Bucky couldn’t hide his emotions from Steve.  

He felt his stomach sour in shame as he realized what Bucky must have been feeling the last few days, growing from worry to desperation to anger, and his face flushed hotly in deep regret.  

But Steve wasn’t going to ignore the fact that Bucky had followed him – spied on him – because Steve had ignored him for a few days, because under his shame for hurting his best friend, Steve was a little _angry_ at Bucky for this intolerable behavior. In all their years of friendship, Steve knew that Bucky was possessive of the few people that he loved, but it was in the sense that he was protective and loyal and steadfast. But after Bucky was honorably discharged from military, something had changed in him and that possessiveness was now tinged with paranoia and aggression. For the most part, those who loved Bucky understood that he was trying to transition into “civilian” life, but Bucky’s recent behavior was out of bounds, even for Steve to leave alone.

He couldn’t let Bucky get away with it, but first, he wanted to make amends. He felt guilty for hurting Bucky and _that_ was intolerable to him as well.

“I’m sorry, Bucky.”

He saw some of the tension ease from Bucky’s face and it gave Steve a little hope that he could make things right between them. He reached up and put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry. I have been ignoring you.”

Bucky frowned. “ _Why_ did you freeze me out?”

He took a deep breath and chewed on his lip. “I’m trying to work through something in my head and…part of it is about you, but mostly it’s my own mind that I have to just get over.”

“And you don’t want to tell me.” Bucky let out a deep breath with the last of his anger, his hands on his hips. “You know you don’t have to always go at it alone.”

He wanted to say “pot, meet kettle” but knew it wasn’t the right moment.

“I know.” Steve looked at him, a pained smile on his face. “Not right now, okay? I promise, once I figure this out in my own head, I’ll tell you. Just…don’t push me about it. Please.”

The hardness slowly fell from Bucky’s face, and from one blink to the next, Steve was looking into the familiar blue eyes of his best friend, all the warmth and affection back on his face. Steve let out a soft sigh, his shoulders sagging in relief.

“Then quit avoiding me,” Bucky said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His cocked his head and his lips quirked into a small smirk. “So…you actually gave me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, huh?”

“Bucky…” Steve whined, rolling his eyes. “Come on…”

“Give me my Bacon Caramel,” he said, holding out his hand.

Steve grinned, handing over the bag of goodies. “They’re not all for you. Abigail put some of my favorites in there, too.”

“Too bad, I’m taking everything. I think I deserve it for following your boring ass all day,” he grumbled, digging into the bag and pulling out one of Steve’s favorites and unwrapping it, hungrily.

He watched, longingly, as Bucky placed the chocolate morsel in his mouth, his eyes bright with smug amusement. Steve sighed and chuckled, conceding the fight to Bucky. “Fine, you win, take it all, Buck.”

“Damn right,” he said, chewing with his mouth open. “And now, you’re going to make me dinner. I think you need to make me steak with roasted potatoes.”

Steve smiled, nodding. “Okay, but we have to stop by the store on the way home.”

“I’m talking Brooklyn butcher prime cuts, not that cheap crap from Safeway.”

“Okay, Bucky.”

They walked companionably along the sidewalk for a few minutes and Steve smiled, watching as Bucky gorged himself with the chocolates. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the next part of their conversation.

“Buck?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t ever follow me around like that again,” he said, softly.

Bucky gave him a sidelong look, popping a chocolate into his mouth. “Oh yeah?”

“You crossed the line. You don’t need to track me down like that – like I’m a target, like you’re on a recon mission. All day, I felt like someone was watching me and it was the weirdest feeling I’ve ever had. It made me anxious. And I don’t want to live my life thinking that someone, especially you, is stalking me like that. It’s bad enough that I know strangers watch me and take my picture without my knowing, but that’s work so I can live with that. I signed up for that. But I don’t like it when my best friend does it to me.”

Bucky was quiet for a long moment and Steve glanced over at him to see him processing what Steve told him. They continued walking down the quiet street; he knew that Bucky just needed the time to work through it.

“All right, pal,” Bucky said, quietly. “I’m sorry for doing that.”

Steve smiled and nodded, relieved. “Thanks. And you won’t do it again?”

“I can’t promise that I won’t fuck up again,” he said, sighing deeply. “But I’ll try to respect your boundaries.”

“Okay, Bucky,” he said, nodding. He held out his hand, palm up, wiggling his fingers. “Now, give me my samples.”

Bucky chuckled and handed the bag over. “Don’t eat all of mine.”

Steve opened the bag and pulled out a small bag of treats that Abigail had put together for him. He handed the rest back to Bucky. And sometimes, it was just like that between them. A few honest words, a little consideration, and they could both drop it.

“If I’m making dinner, then you have to get us dessert, and the chocolate doesn’t count.”

He looked over to see Bucky smiling, wide and open, eyes crinkled at the edges. Steve felt his chest burst with warmth, seeing his best friend again.

“Okay.”

***

**CBS Broadcast Center**

**524 West 57 th Street**

****

With hiatus over, the cast and crew were back in town to work on the new season. They had moved production to Studio 41 in the CBS Broadcast Center in Hell’s Kitchen, giving them over 8,100 square feet of space to build new sets for all their interior scenes.

Steve had gotten the scripts for Episode 2.2 and Episode 2.3, and everyone was scheduled to come in for table readings, costume fittings, call time sheets, weapons training, and stunt training. He was excited to see the whole team back together again and pretty much showed up an hour earlier than he was expected, spending the time touring the new space, peeking into other studios, and hanging out in Phil’s office until he finally shooed Steve to make-up and wardrobe to work on his new look.

“Keep growing out your hair and don’t shave.” Ben said, his hands in Steve’s hair, tilting his head gently to the side, examining his face in the make-up mirror. “Your character is out in the field weeks at a time. The last thing you’re going to care about is whether you’ve shaved or gotten a haircut.”

“Right.”

“I’ll have to take over all of your grooming this season,” Ben turned the chair around and took Steve by the chin, tilting his head up slightly. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“No, not a problem, I just need to get used to it,” he said, shrugging. “I normally don’t like to have a beard.”

Ben smiled at him, patting his shoulders. “All right, I’ll see if I can keep you as tidy as possible.”

“Thanks.” He nodded and then broke out into a wide smile when he saw Bucky walking into the room. “Hey!”

Bucky reached down and gave him a quick hug, patting his chest. “Benny making you pretty?”

“He already is pretty,” Ben said, chuckling warmly. “Jimmy, good to see you. Let’s see your hair.”

Bucky reached up and pulled off the rubber band holding his hair back. “It’s gotten longer during hiatus. I haven’t done anything to it.”

“I’ll probably trim it a little bit, but I think they want you to keep that ragged look,” Ben told him.

“Can you keep it long enough so that I can tie it back? I hate having it all in my face all the time,” Bucky said, sitting down in the make-up chair next to Steve.

“Sure,” Ben said, nodding his head. “You guys sit for a sec and I’m going to get your continuity folders from the last shoot.”

“What’re you doing after read through?” Bucky said, slouching in his chair and looking over at Steve.

“Weapons training. They want to take me to the range to make sure that I can still hit the target. You?”

“Stunts. I need to start upping my cardio for endurance, they have me running a lot this season.” He grinned. “We should start running on the Promenade before call time.”

Steve propped his head back and closed his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds good.” He turned his head to look at Bucky. “Are you going to crash with me?”

“Nah, I’m going to stay at my place. It’s not far from the Promenade so I can meet you in the mornings.”

He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. That was the first time that Bucky had given away any kind of information about his city apartment. Steve always thought that it was somewhere in Brooklyn because Bucky wouldn’t want to live in any of the other neighborhoods.  

“Are you ever going to let me see your secret bolt hole at some point in my life?”

Bucky shrugged, chewing on his lip. “It’s nothing special, just has a mattress for me to crash on. I work out, read scripts, watch porn and jerk off. It’s embarrassingly empty and not worth a visit.”

He felt a flash of jealousy, wondering if Bucky brought his one-night stands to his secret apartment; that there were people who Bucky had fucked who knew the location of his secret place, but not Steve, his best friend.

But Steve didn’t push and he swallowed his jealousy. He knew how important it was for Bucky to keep his city apartment location to himself. Steve knew that Bucky wouldn’t let a stranger into his place, not even for the promise of easy sex. He once explained it as lingering paranoia; that he needed one place in the city where he could hunker down and just be quiet and alone. Steve knew that no one knew where it was, not even Bucky’s ma; and while Steve could have needled Bucky about it, he didn’t want to start a fight.  

“Besides, it’ll be good for my character to be isolated,” he said, smiling shyly.

“You’re so method,” Steve teased, rolling his eyes. “Fine, keep your secrets, Buck.”

***

The read through was energetic, frantic, and dynamic. Steve loved table reads and loved seeing everyone at the table. He didn’t have scenes with a lot of his friends and didn’t see them on set at the same time he was shooting, so he prized the few hours when he saw them all in one room. They were able to work through some of the lines that worked better on the page but didn’t sound realistic when spoken aloud; with Phil giving them even more direction for where season 2 would take them. Everyone broke out into loud applause at the end and Steve smiled, leaning back in his chair, looking at the talented people he was lucky to work with.

“Before you go, please check with Lynn and pick up your call time schedules. We go right into shooting tomorrow morning. I would like to address one thing that does concern me – well, all of us, to be honest,” Phil said, getting to his feet and looking around at everyone in the room. “We’ve not been able to discover who is leaking script pages to the public. We’ve learned that several pages from episode 2 and episode 3 are already online.”

 

_Agency. Season 2. Episode 2: Jurisdiction_

[](http://i769.photobucket.com/albums/xx337/house_of_lantis/episode2_3b.png)   


_Agency. Season 2. Episode 3: Prudence_

 

The room exploded in angry groans and protests; Phil waved everyone down.

“Charles, our lead script supervisor, and his assistants have been vetted; all scripts going forward will be tagged and individually color coded so that we’ll be able to find the culprit or culprits who are responsible for the leaks. The studio will take legal action against the perpetrator, so I just wanted to tell everyone to keep an eye on your copy. If you lose or misplace your script, please let Charles know immediately.” Phil smiled, congenially, and nodded to everyone. “Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

Steve watched as Phil’s battalion of producers, writers, and assistants surrounded him, turning in paperwork or trying to get a word with the showrunner.

He turned to look at Bucky. “Why do you think someone is leaking our script pages? It’s not like there’s any major spoilers.”

Bucky grinned. “It’s because the fans want to see us get it on.”

Steve barked out an incredulous laugh. “What?”

“Our characters,” he said, laughing throatily. “They want to see Evanstan happen. So maybe someone is leaking the pages to feed the fans.”

He stared at Bucky, slightly horrified, and then shook his head. “I can’t even wrap my head around something like—“

“Steven.”

He looked up to see the legendary five-time Oscar winner Alexander Pierce walking towards him. Even in a pair of battered jeans, a white tee-shirt, and navy blue blazer, he had that kind of distinguished Old Hollywood aura about him. He wore his confidence as second skin and completely lacked any kind of dramatic behavior, even though he had every right to be demanding. Set gossip claimed that _he_ contacted Phil directly and asked if he could audition, that he was looking for a juicy role to sink his teeth into.

Steve was the first actor to be cast for the show, even though the studio was doubtful that Steve could star and carry a show like “Agency.” But Phil went to the mat for him and told the studio executives that Steve was the only actor he was considering for the role of Chris Evans. Steve had come in to audition nine times for the role and finally won the studio over and signed his contract.

Bucky, who was turning into something of an up-and-coming movie star, had just wrapped his fourth movie and wasn’t really looking for new work when Steve told him that “Agency” was still casting.

_“They’re filming in New York,” Steve told him, tossing him the pilot script._

_Bucky thumbed through it, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t know, Steve, episodic work like this could get rough. It’s a major commitment.”_

_“You got anything better to do?”_

_He laughed, shaking his head. “My agent just sent me ten scripts.”_

_“Any of them interesting?”_

_“No,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes._

_“Have your agent call the casting director and set up an audition. We could work together. I think this show is going to be something to be proud of,” Steve said, giving Bucky his best smile. He could see Bucky weakening. “Come on, Bucky, we could move back home to Brooklyn. You know your ma would love it.”_

_Bucky squinted at him. “Low, Rogers, real low.”_

When Steve found out that Alexander had joined the cast to play the powerful and politically cunning Under Secretary of Defense Robert Redford, he was a little nervous; and when he found out that Alexander’s character was also Chris’s father on the show and they would share a number of intense scenes together, Steve nearly hyperventilated into a panic attack.

“I think the new season is going to be very exciting, don’t you?”

Steve stood up, feeling still kind of shy, as the older man nodded to him with a wide smile, a twinkle in his blue eyes. A part of Steve wondered at the luck of casting, that with Alexander’s dark blond hair and blue eyes, they did resemble father and son.

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I just wanted to say how pleased I am to be working with you again this season,” Alexander said, shaking Steve’s hand. “You really hit it out of the ballpark last year.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking a deep breath. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

Alexander chuckled, the lines of his handsome face deepening. “Who me? I’m just another working stiff like you.” He patted Bucky’s shoulder affectionately. “Jimmy, good to see you again.”

“You, too, Alexander.”

“Ah. I think Phil is signaling to me,” he said, amusedly. “See you on set, boys.”

Steve sat down in his chair, sighing just a little as he watched Alexander.

“I see that Steve’s infatuation for Alexander is still going strong,” Natasha said, as she curled her arms around Bucky’s neck. “Hello, gorgeous.”

“Well, hello, beautiful,” Bucky murmured, turning to kiss her cheek.

Steve didn’t miss that Bucky was clearly enjoying her attention. “Hey, Nat.”

She smirked at him, not bothering to let Bucky go. Steve liked working with her; she was good at her craft. But she unnerved him and he was never quite sure where he stood with her. She kept her feelings close to her chest. And despite the fact that she and Bucky had dated for a year, Bucky had once admitted to Steve that he didn’t really know her.

_“What do you mean? You guys were together for a year.”_

_Bucky shrugged, a wistful look on his face. “Probably the reason why we didn’t make it much longer.” He sighed, looking up at Steve. “Look, some people aren’t able to…they don’t trust easily. Natasha and I had a lot of fun together, I mean, she’s great, obviously; but she doesn’t let a lot of people get close to her. Not even me. Anyway, we’re better off as friends and colleagues.”_

_“And it’s not weird that you have to work together now?”_

_Bucky smiled. “Of course not! We’re both professionals. All that baggage doesn’t exist when we’re on set.”_

“I think it’s adorable that you wag your little tail whenever you see Alexander,” Natasha commented in her usual sharp, mocking tone.

He smiled politely at her, refusing to be baited. “I want to be him when I grow up.”

Natasha kissed Bucky’s cheek and tugged on his short ponytail. “This new bad boy look looks good on you.” She grinned at Steve and straightened up, smoothing down her dress. “Too bad you didn’t look like this when we were dating.”

Bucky snorted, playfully. “Not that it would’ve made much difference.”

“Well, I do enjoy roleplaying,” she said, patting Bucky’s head and sauntering off towards Bruce.

“Some days, I actually regret breaking up with her,” Bucky murmured, thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair as they both watched Natasha take Bruce’s arm, her hips swaying as she walked out of the room.

“Hello, Steve.”

He turned and smiled, reaching to give her a hug. “Peggy, I’m so happy to see you. How was your flight over from London? Did they give you a nice place to stay?”

Peggy chuckled. “Actually, Howard gave me a suite in Stark Tower. You should come by and see it. The sunrise is quite magical.”

Bucky choked down a laugh, trying to hide it with obnoxious coughing.

Steve raised his eyebrows, even though he wasn’t really surprised. Howard Stark was a brilliant engineer and military weapons developer. Depending on who was asked, Stark Tower was either a structure of technological virtuosity or an egotistical eye sore on the city’s Mid-town skyline.

_“Phallic is a much better word,” Tony said, rather proudly._

No one could explain why, but when Tony had introduced them to his dad, Howard had taken an immediate interest in both Steve and Peggy. He was friendly and eccentric and fascinating in the way that someone of his wealth and position was voluntarily accessible, but only to certain people. He had once offered to give Steve a whole floor in Stark Tower, which he admitted was very difficult to turn down because the view of the city was spectacular, but Steve couldn’t accept such a gift – especially since the offer was made just fifteen minutes into their introduction. 

_“Don’t ever refuse the immeasurable friendship of a billionaire,” Tony once counseled him; it was a good bet that Tony was probably drunk at the time. “Dad – the billionaire of billionaires – sees something in you, Mr. All-American. And dad, let me tell you, is never wrong.”_

“Tony wanted me to let you know that he is having a welcome back party for cast and crew at his place later tonight. I believe we are all expected to attend,” she said, dark eyes looking up at Steve. “And we are expected to drink and dance the night away.”

“Oh, I love Stark’s parties,” Bucky said. “We should go. Dancing. Together.”

Steve nodded, blushing slightly. “I’ll see you there.”

“It’s a date,” she murmured, and then looked at Bucky, giving him a quick nod. “Oh, hello, James.”

“Oh, hello,” Bucky drawled, a wide smile on his face. “Because I was right here. The whole time.”

“See you tonight,” Peggy said, plush red lips curving into a smile as she looked at Steve.

Steve watched as she walked out of the room and he bit his lip, trying to hide his grin. He had been drawn to her from the first moment they met. She was beautiful, but so many people in the industry were beautiful; there was something else about her that caught his attention. Maybe it was because she just seemed to _like_ him from the start. Over the course of shooting the first season, they had spent a lot of their downtime waiting for cameras and lights to be reset, sitting next to each other and running lines or talking about art or traveling, and it had felt natural, like they had known each other for years.

It wasn’t unusual for people who worked intensely together to develop relationships. It happened that in just a short amount of time, due to the intensity of filming, actors tended to gravitate towards each other for emotional support. On set romances developed, but they tended to be fleeting, and dissipated once that honeymoon phase of working 18-hour days couldn’t be maintained off set. Steve hadn’t had any on set romances, preferring to keep his work obligations and his personal life separate, but Peggy was definitely someone he thought he might like to know off set.   

It was different from the way he felt about Bucky, which went deep into the soul of Steve; so many years and moments and memories, everything about his life entangled with Bucky and the Barnes family. He loved Bucky, he was _in love_ with Bucky, and he didn’t believe that would change any time soon. But he felt something for Peggy, too, granted it was in the beginning stages but…he thought he had enough in him to be able to…love them both?  

“See, didn’t I tell you that she only has eyes for you?” Bucky snorted, shaking his head. _“Magical.”_

He picked up his messenger bag and started putting his script and notebook into his bag. He glanced at Bucky and smirked.

“Maybe you should try a little harder to get her attention, Buck, I don’t think she noticed you.”

“You’re a little punk.” Bucky sat up and shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe _I’m_ the invisible one here.”

Steve laughed, patting Bucky’s shoulder consolingly. “Hey, Bucky? Maybe you’ll meet someone who will finally see you for you, Casper.”

“Oh fuck you, Rogers,” he said, grinning widely.

***  

Some scenes were easier to shoot than others.

Bucky loved the action sequences. As Senior Field Agent Sebastian Stan, he got to do chase scenes and fight scenes.

_“Who wouldn’t want to run through the streets of New York, stopping traffic, jumping on cars and being badass? You can’t do that shit in real life. Not even when I was in the military and we were officially sanctioned for mission runs like that, we couldn’t ever do that unless we wanted our heads blown off.”_

The studio medical coverage for Bucky was pretty high since he often got too caught up in the action scenes. Over the course of the first season, Bucky had to be taken to the hospital for sprains, bruises, cuts, scrapes, muscle pulls, a concussion, and one time he broke his left arm and had to be in a cast for a few weeks, which had to be written into the scripts.

Steve had unthinkingly drawn silly little cartoon cats representing everyone on the cast, which Bucky nicknamed the “Yowling Commandos,” until they both realized too late that _Senior Field Agent Sebastian Stan_ wouldn’t have cute little cartoon cats up and down his cast.

_“Damn it, I’m going to have to tell Phil so he can approve me getting this cast taken off and getting a fresh one,” Bucky said, frowning. He touched the cats with his fingers. “Maybe the Doc will let me keep the old cast, these are fucking adorable, Steve.”_

_Steve sighed, dropping his black Sharpie on the table. “Sorry, Buck. I don’t know what I was thinking.”_

_Buck grinned. “Nah, it’s all right. If we weren’t shooting, I would’ve kept it.”_

The production insurance lawyers told Bucky that he was going to have to limit his stunt work or they wouldn’t be able to insure him anymore.

_“Aw, come on, Phil, you can’t let them ground me,” Bucky protested, heavily. “It’s not going to look authentic if I’m not doing the stunt.”_

_Phil shook his head. “James, your safety is our number one concern—“_

_“We can work with the stunt team to make sure that nothing—“_

_“Bucky, Phil is right. I’d never forgive myself if you fell off something and hurt yourself—or worse,” Steve grounded out, finally bringing Bucky around._

For the first few episodes of season one, Steve didn’t have a lot of action scenes. But his character refused to just sit behind his big desk. He went with the field agents, none of them really wanted him out there, but he got the chance to prove his worth.

Because Chris Evans knew how to fire a gun and he showed the other field agents that he was willing and able to kill to protect them. Steve loved that that was the turning point for Chris; that it defined the man that he would become.

_Agency. Season 1. Episode 5: Brotherhood_

Steve loved the dramatic scenes with Alexander; he had to force himself to stop staring at the other man long enough to get his lines out. The first couple of weeks were hard on him because Steve had to get over his fanboying of Alexander Pierce before he was fired from the show. Alexander took Steve out for drinks and shared stories of working on Broadway and studying painting at the Pratt Institute. That cemented their friendship, which translated well to the underlying father-son bond for the show, but they trusted each other now as actors to create tension between their characters.  

He loved his scenes with Peggy, who was playing consulting British Intelligence Officer, Hayley Atwell. Agent Atwell was street smart and didn’t put up with much of anything. Her character was humorless and Peggy had a way of delivering a steely-eyed glare that made Steve blush. At the end of season 1, Agent Atwell proved to be one of the few people that Chris Evans could trust. Steve and Peggy speculated that their characters were probably headed to a Chris-Sebastian-Hayley love triangle and they fought to keep that from happening. Steve didn’t think Chris was a cheater and Peggy didn’t want Hayley to be regulated to the girlfriend role. Luckily, Phil agreed with them and promised to keep their onscreen relationship professional.

But of all the cast members and amazing guest stars, Steve loved playing scenes with Bucky the best. On the foundation of their real life friendship, they enjoyed playing the nuances of their scenes, importing years of sarcasm and teasing and friendly mocking into their characters.

And Steve thought he was prepared for the kissing scenes with Bucky. Hell, if he had to do them, at least it was with his best friend, someone Steve knew and felt comfortable with. That if he, God forbid, forgot himself and got hard, he and Bucky would just have a beer later and have a laugh over it. Thankfully, it wasn’t really all that sexy of an environment – the director calling out for them to tilt their heads so that one of their noses wasn’t creating a shadow on the other’s face; the boom operator dropping the microphone into the scene so that they’d have to reshoot; the grips working the lights on the periphery of Steve’s eye line, looking slightly bored; Phil sitting in his chair and staring pensively on the monitors; the writers making last minute changes to the lines – and Steve and Bucky leaned against the wall, waiting for start and passing the time talking about getting season tickets for the Giants.

Both Steve and Bucky could easily slip into and out of their character by now; they had a good grip on who they were and the world that their characters inhabited. Steve had worked through his minor internal freak out over kissing Bucky; but Bucky didn’t seem to be affected by it at all. He laughed and joked with Steve, staying close to help manage the incredible weirdness of their work.

_“Like a couple of Brooklyn boys who played make believe and just never grew up,” Bucky said, laughing softly._

Yet, this scene felt off, and he could tell that it was getting to Bucky.

“You okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine; I’m just distracted and can’t get out of my head,” Bucky said, sighing deeply.

“I’m just not feeling it,” Roger kept saying, shaking his head as they watched the dailies. “I mean, it looks too forceful.”

Phil made a soft “hmm…” and then looked over at Steve and Bucky. “Gentlemen, would you try that scene with a little less intensity. I don’t believe Sebastian is trying to attack Chris in this moment.”

“Okay, guys, can you go back to your marks, please?” Roger called to them and then conferred with his team to make sure that everything was reset properly. “Do we have audio?”

“We do.”

Bucky headed to his mark as Steve sat down in the chair. Ben came by to brush down Steve’s hair and Steve pulled the black hood back down over his head.

“Okay, everyone, let’s have some quiet.”

“Scene 10, take 4.”

“Action.”

Bucky tugged off the hood and Steve blinked, arranging his expression to show shock and disbelief.

“Sebastian.”

Bucky crossed his arms and moved back, leaning against the edge of the desk. “What the hell are you doing, pal?”

Steve took in a deep breath. “You were the sniper.”

“I just saved your life,” Bucky said, with a hint of anger.

“I could’ve brought him in. He had information that—“

Bucky laughed, derisively, top lip curling into a sneer. “You were already dead the second you walked into that meeting.”

He leaned slightly forward, looking into Steve’s eyes. “You were known, Chris. You weren’t going to make it out of that meeting alive.”

Steve met Bucky’s gaze. “Am I going to make it out of this meeting alive?”

He watched as Bucky placed his hands on the arm rests of his chair, leaning towards him slowly. Steve parted his lips and inhaled through his mouth, saw the way that Bucky’s gaze dropped to his mouth, and he leaned in tentatively, pausing for just a moment, before he closed the distance between them and pressed his warm lips against Steve’s mouth.

It was far gentler than the hard kisses that Bucky had given during the previous three takes. Steve remembered to tilt his head a little to the left; if it had been a real kiss, it was at an awkward angle, but it would look right on camera because of the—

And then he felt Bucky’s tongue lick across his bottom lip. Steve gave a little whimper, feeling his cheeks heat up at the sound, and nearly broke the kiss and pulled out of the scene. He felt Bucky’s hands curl around the sides of his neck to hold him still, thumbs gently tilting Steve’s jaw up, his mouth opening against Steve’s a little more until he slipped his tongue into Steve’s mouth, curling around his tongue.

Steve made a surprised moan and pulled back, staring up at Bucky with wide eyes.

How actors kissed on screen was always decided on before filming. Usually, there wasn’t a lot of tongue involved.

“Fuck. I need five minutes,” Bucky said, roughly, walking off the set.

“Okay, cut,” Roger called, reluctantly. “That was actually a nice shot, did we get that?”

Steve sat in the chair for a moment, alone under the bright lights, feeling his face flush. He jumped out of the chair and followed Bucky off the set. He knew that Bucky wouldn’t have gone too far. The set was closed and no matter how emotionally unstable Bucky might feel, he’d never walk out of a live studio set.

“Bucky?” He called, softly, walking past some of the unused sets pushed against a far wall. “Buck?”

He found Bucky leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of him.

“Hey, you all right, pal?” Steve said, walking towards him.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, letting out a breathless laugh. “Sorry about that…just…kind of…got lost in the scene, I guess.”

Steve nodded, sympathetically. “I know; these things happen. It’s…okay; you didn’t freak me out or anything.”

Bucky stared at him for a long moment and then laughed, mean and hard. He looked away and shook his head, clenching his jaw.

“You know what, Steve, just…give me a few minutes, huh? Christ, just…I’d like to have a few minutes alone, please.”

He nodded, stepping backwards. “Sure. I’ll be on set. Take whatever time you need.”

Steve ran his hands over his head and took a deep breath, walking slowly back to the set. Even amongst professionals, accidents happened. Heat of the moment. Usually, most actors would just laugh it off, not get offended or take it personally. They were human and intimate scenes were, well, still intimate.

He licked his lips, remembering the way that Bucky kissed him; the feel of his hands curling around Steve’s neck, thumbs stroking his jawline. He could feel Bucky’s scruffy beard against his skin, the familiar musk of his cologne, the way that his tongue playfully stroked into his mouth.

That had felt like a _real_ kiss…and Steve couldn’t afford to think about it.

God, he had gotten just as lost in the moment, too; it was nothing but fear that made him pull away. He was pretty sure that if they’d kept kissing, Bucky and the crew would’ve known just how much Steve had liked being kissed – or he might have done something really unprofessional.

“Shit,” he whispered, shaking his head.

A part of Steve _desperately_ wanted to know if Bucky got lost in the kiss because it was with _Steve_ , or if it was just the fact that Bucky was kissing _someone_. He wasn’t prepared for either answer though.

Steve took a moment to gather up his dignity and walked back on set. No one would be rude enough to comment on what happened, though he was certain that there would be a little on set gossip and speculation later. But he’d simply do what he did best – pull on the mask of professionalism – and they would get through this scene and all the other scenes scheduled for the day.

Anything more and Steve would crack.


	5. ACT FOUR: The Wrap Up (PART A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Warning for dubcon, due to semi-drunk sex. And then later, for somewhat rough sex. This chapter (and the next one, had to split it) is pretty much sex. 
> 
> FAKE iPHONE: Mine.

Of course, they don’t talk about it. That seemed to be the kind of track that they were on. Bucky had walked back on set, they filmed the scene in two perfect takes, and moved on to the next set of pages for the day. It was anti-climactic; and even if Steve wanted to talk, Bucky had disappeared. He hurried out of the studio, hoping to catch up with Bucky, and froze in place when he saw Bucky duck into the back of a taxi.

_“Your boy took off with Sam and Clint, something about needing a boys’ night out,” Natasha said, giving him an assessing look. Her lips quirked into a knowing smile. “Though, I think it’s kind of strange that he wouldn’t ask you to go out with them. Lover’s quarrel?”_

_Steve laughed and shook his head. “It’s not what you’re thinking. See you tomorrow.”_

_He moved to walk around her but she placed her hand on his arm. He glanced at her, wondering why she even cared. They were co-workers and, sure, they were friendly, but Natasha was Bucky’s ex-girlfriend – she was Bucky’s friend, not Steve’s._

_“Rogers. The whole time that Bucky and I were together, he only ever talked about you,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “That was the reason why it didn’t work out with us.” She wore a confident smile on her beautiful face. “Don’t get me wrong, if I wanted him to stay with me, he’d be with me right now. But I didn’t want to make him choose.”_

_“Right. Because he’d choose you?” Steve said, letting some of the bitterness creep into his voice._

_“Because you would’ve let him go,” Natasha said, voice low and husky. She gave his arm a firm, friendly squeeze before letting him go. “See you tomorrow.”_

Steve was really too tired to be worrying about his relationship with Bucky; and he was too tired to be doing this, but he needed it out of his system so he could pass out and sleep…  

_…the way that Bucky licked his bottom lip, dipping into his mouth when Steve whimpered. He could feel Bucky’s warm hands around his neck, fingers pressing into his skin, holding him in place – holding him steady as he tilted Steve’s head so that their lips slid perfectly and slotted into place as Bucky moved his tongue into his mouth and…_

“Jesus,” Steve whispered, stroking his cock frantically.

The pleasure was there right on the edge, but Steve couldn’t cross it for some reason. He let out a frustrated groan, digging his heels into the mattress.

_He only ever talked about you._

He flung his left arm over his eyes, right hand gripped tight around his cock, thumbing the head and sending a long shiver down his spine. He didn’t want to think about anything, he just needed to come and then sleep, for God’s sake!

The muffled laughter out on the street was distracting as hell; it reminded him of Bucky’s laugh.

 _Bucky. Fucking Bucky,_ he groused. _It always came back to Bucky_.

It had _nothing_ to do with Bucky! He was horny, he needed to get off, damn it!

Steve clenched his jaw, stroking his cock hard to the point where he was oversensitive and the pleasure was turning into frustration and pain. He needed to come, what the hell was wrong with him? Maybe he should just get the lube and finger himself open? He could get off so quick with two fingers inside of—

There was loud giggling and then someone pounding on his front door.

“Quiet! Don’t wake the whole fucking neighborhood!” That was Clint’s voice.

Steve jerked his arm down and frowned in the darkness. His bedroom faced the front of the house, overlooking the street and sidewalk. His Brooklyn Heights neighborhood wasn’t really the kind for pre-dawn pranks.

“Rogers! Open up!” A man called loudly; someone who sounded suspiciously like Sam.

Then more banging on his door.

 _So much for any kind of release_ , he thought, wearily. He let go of his softening cock with a loud sigh. Steve wiped his hand on his sheets and got out of bed, pulling on a pair of soft sleep pants. He made his way downstairs and turned on the overhead recess lights in the living room.

“ _Ohhhhhh Stevie_!”

That was Bucky. He only called him ‘Stevie’ when he was drunk off his ass.

Steve unlocked the front door and opened it warily, staring at Bucky, stupid smile on his face, his head lolling to the side, and being held up by his arms between Sam and Clint.

“We were in the neighborhood,” Clint said, snickering. “Get it? Mr Rogers’ neighborhood.”

Bucky laughed, throwing back his head. “Get it?”

“Special delivery for Mr Rogers,” Sam said, smirking.

“It’s too early for this,” Steve said, raising his eyebrow.

“Why are you half naked? Man, we aren’t _interrupting_ you or nothing, are we?” Clint said, eyes flicking knowingly over Steve’s bared chest. “Looking good, Steve-o.”

Steve ran a hand over his hair and sighed, trying not to blush. “Get in here before my neighbors call the cops.”  

 “Cops! Stevie and I used to play cops and robbers, you know. I was always the robber!” Bucky said, brightly.

“Not surprised,” Sam added, shaking his head.

“Stevie used to chase me down the old neighborhood and arrest me and then he’d tie me up in a chair to interror-interry-intergate me!”

“Like, what, recently? You guys role play?” Clint said, curiously.

Steve made a face. “No! Ohmygod, Clint, we were twelve! And Bucky wanted me to do it because—“

He realized how that sounded so he stopped, pressing his lips together.  

Clint broke out into a wide grin. “Hey, do you guys role play as Chris and Sebastian? Because that would be pretty hot! We could film it and put it online, make a fortune on legit Evanstan porn!”

“Evanstan porn!” Bucky yelled, laughing maniacally. “Let’s do it, Stevie! Let’s make pornos!”

“No.”

Sam laughed. “Kinky fuckers.”

“I’m drunk!” Bucky announced to Steve, cheerfully. He leaned heavily against Clint, but his eyes were on Steve.

“Of course you are,” Steve said, dryly.

“Of course I am,” Bucky said, laughing against Clint’s cheek.

“Yeah, you are, funny guy, all right, let’s start walking again, man. Jesus, you’re fucking heavy. How are you so heavy when you look like a little thing?” Clint complained, more amused than annoyed.

“I’m all muscle,” Bucky murmured, cracking up. “Ask Stevie, he draws me nude.”

Clint made a puzzled expression. “Steve draws you while he’s nude?”

Bucky snorted. “ _Noooooo_ …Stevie is not-nude.”

“Like that guy on ‘Arrested Development.’”

“Just get him in here!” Steve hissed at them, walking down the hallway into the living room.

Sam reached back and swung the door closed as he and Clint balanced Bucky, who seemed to have forgotten that he had feet.

“Sorry, man, but we couldn’t take him back to his mom’s house like this,” Clint said, smirking slightly. “And he didn’t want to crash anywhere else but here.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s fine; he crashes here when he’s drunk anyway.”

“Bucky’s not on call until the day after tomorrow so he can sleep this off,” Sam said, as they settled Bucky at the kitchen counter, putting him on a stool.

Bucky dropped his cheek to the marble counter and let out a soulful sigh. “Ahhhh…feels good. Cool.”

“How much has he had to drink?” Steve said, getting a glass and filling it with water from his fridge.

“A lot – shots, all night,” Clint said, patting Bucky’s back. “Got all maudlin and shit, but he wouldn’t tell us why.”

Steve gently pulled Bucky upright, the glass in front of him. “Buck, you have to drink some water or you’re going to be regretting this in the morning.”

Bucky looked up at Steve, his mouth stretched wide in a happy smile. “Stevie, you…so pretty, Stevie. ‘Member when you were little? So cute, like a little button, yeah?” He laughed, one arm curling behind Steve’s waist, pulling him closer. The other hand smoothed across Steve’s chest. “Filled out nice.”

“Uhhh…thanks, Bucky,” Steve said, feeling his face flush.

He looked over at Sam and Clint for some help, only to see them watching, a little horrified at Bucky’s display.

“Well, that answered that question,” Clint said, smirking.

Sam raised his eyebrow. “Are you going to be okay with him?”

“He’s always handsy like this right before he passes out.” Steve sighed, tugging away from Bucky and putting the glass of water in his hands. “Drink the water, Bucky, do it.”

“Okay, Stevie, sir yes sir!” Bucky said, humming a little tune as he drank down the water, holding the glass with both hands. Steve jolted at the memory of when Bucky used to do that as a kid, too.  

Clint clapped his hands and laughed, making Steve jump slightly. “Okay, looks like you’ve got a handle on him. It’s three in the fucking morning and way past my bedtime.”

Steve led them to the door, hugging Sam and then Clint. “Thanks for bringing him. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Good luck, man,” Sam said, patting him heartily on the back. “He’s a bit of a handful when he’s drunk.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Welcome to my life as Bucky’s designated sober friend.”

“See you tomorrow at the studio,” Clint said, smiling. “Seriously, Evanstan porn, we could get rich.”

“Get out of here,” Steve groused, frowning at them. “Bye, guys.”

He locked the door and then made his way to the kitchen, but Bucky wasn’t there. “Bucky?”

Bucky wasn’t in the living room and then he heard thumping from the second floor. Steve saw that Bucky finished the water in the glass and he took it to the sink to wash later. He shut down the lights and made his way upstairs.

“Bucky?”

He looked into Bucky’s room and didn’t see him there. He didn’t hear Bucky in the bathroom. That left Steve’s study or his bedroom. He didn’t think Bucky was in any kind of mind to care about Steve’s study, so he walked to the end of the hallway to his own room, unsurprised to see that Bucky had crashed on his bed fully dressed.

“Damn it, Bucky, at least take off your shoes,” Steve said, walking to Bucky’s side of the bed and unlacing his black boots, tugging them off. He frowned, seeing the blue scarf twisted around his neck. He gently untangled the scarf, tossing it on a nearby chair. He tugged off the leather jacket, muttering under his breath about Bucky being a drunk dead weight. He was breathless by the time he had rolled Bucky around on the bed, trying to get his arms to cooperate so that he could tug off the leather. “Jesus.”

Bucky snorted, his eyes still closed. “Not going to take off my pants? It might cut off my circulation.”

“Faker,” Steve said, punching Bucky in the arm. “Just go to sleep, it’s nearly four in the morning and I need to be up in three hours.”

Steve collapsed on the other side of the bed, letting out a deep sigh as he tucked his face into his pillow. He felt the bed jostle as Bucky rolled off the bed, laughing as he fell on the floor.

“You all right there, Buck?”

Bucky laughed, getting slowly to his feet. “I can’t sleep like this. It’s hot, Stevie.”

Steve opened his eyes, his vision adjusted to the darkness, so he could see Bucky stripping off his shirt, tossing it behind him on the floor. He met Bucky’s eyes as he undid his jeans, jerking them down his legs, and kicking them off gracelessly. He tugged off his socks and then fell on the bed wearing just his boxer briefs, kicking under the covers.

“For God’s sake! Just go to bed! Now, Bucky!”

Bucky froze and Steve closed his eyes, praying that he would get some peace and quiet, when he felt the mattress shaking with Bucky’s silent giggles.

“Bucky!”

He burst out in a loud peel of laughter, turning on his side to face Steve. “I’m sorry! But this is hilarious for some reason! I’m really fucking drunk.”

“Just try to go to sleep,” Steve said, tiredly. “Please.”

“What if I throw up in the middle of the night?”

“You’ll just have to clean it up in the morning.”

Bucky poked Steve’s shoulder with his finger. “But what if I choke on my own vomit?”

“You’re not going to choke on your own vomit. I’ll hear if you do.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, sounding relieved. “Okay…”

And in the next breath, Bucky just seemed to melt into the bed, his whole face relaxing.

Steve rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the sound of Bucky breathing next to him lull him to sleep.

***

_Yes, that felt good, it was just what he wanted._

There were kisses against his neck and Steve sighed, leaning his head back into the pillows, letting the warmth fill him. He murmured something encouraging, a firm hand circling his stomach.

_“Mmmmmm?”_

“Steve.”

This was a good dream; he hadn’t had one like this in a long time.

_“Hmmmm…okay…”_

“You want this?”

The hand moved lower, warm palm rubbing the soft fabric of his sleep pants against his cock. He pressed his hips up into the warmth.

_“Mmmmm…more…”_

“You want more? Is that it?”

Steve choked back his whimper, opening his eyes and jerking awake in time to feel Bucky’s hand slip under the waist of his sleep pants to curl around his hard cock.

“What—what—“

Bucky’s other hand slipped under his head, grabbing his hair and turning his head for a wet kiss.

_What the hell…what the hell was…good god he couldn’t think…ohhh Jesus that felt so good…oh yes, oh yes, oh yes—_

“Bucky!”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmured, nipping on Steve’s ear. His hand was moving on his cock with long, smooth strokes. “Come on, baby.”

“Wait, Buck—Bucky, wait! You’re drunk!”

Bucky laughed, low and deep against Steve’s ear. “Not anymore.”

“Shouldn’t we— _oh god_ —talk…talk… _Jesus, Bucky_ …talk about this?”

“Later,” Bucky said, nipping along Steve’s neck. “In the morning. You want to come, don’t you?”

_How was he supposed to answer that? Of course he wanted to come! Damn it, he wanted it, so very much!_

“Woke me up with all that soft moaning in your sleep,” Bucky whispered, busy hand speeding up now with short, firm strokes over the head. Steve moaned, inhaling deeply, thrusting into Bucky’s strokes. “Moaning my name like that. What’s a boy to think?”

_Think? Yes, he needed to think! He just…needed a minute to…_

“Ohhh…ohh don’t stop…don’t stop Bucky…”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what you were saying. Were you dreaming about me, Steve?”

He shoved down Steve’s sleep pants with his knees, lifting himself on his elbow so they could both watch his own hand working on Steve’s cock. Steve panted, closing his eyes, whimpering when Bucky kissed his mouth again.

Steve groaned, breaking away from Bucky’s mouth, arching his neck as he started to tremble. His hand reached for the edge of the bed, needing to hold onto something as he clenched his belly, the pleasure starting to spark and roll through him, Bucky’s hand relentless as he stroked him closer and closer. The sharp nip on his neck hurt and Steve let out a soft cry, choking on his breath as his body flooded with pleasure at the same time, flushed with warmth throughout his body as he came.

“Shit,” Steve whispered, trying to catch his breath.

Bucky laughed against his shoulder, tightening his hold around Steve’s cock, working him through it until it crossed from pleasure to oversensitive discomfort and Steve had to pull Bucky’s hand off of him.

Steve closed his eyes, panting through his opened mouth, and heard the slick slap of Bucky’s hand on his own cock, hot breath against his neck.

“Gonna come on you, baby,” Bucky said, huskily. “Gonna…gonna come… _ohhhh fuck_.”

Steve turned and kissed Bucky’s mouth, feeling him shudder against him, wetness against Steve’s hip. Bucky groaned against Steve’s lips and then huffed out a laugh, dropping his forehead against Steve’s shoulder.

“Fuck. I think we both needed that,” Bucky said, wiping his hand on the sheets and falling on his back.

Steve stared at Bucky, watching his chest rise and fall quickly, hand rubbing his lower belly. He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath.

“Bucky—“

“ _Shhh_ …it’s still early, just go back to sleep, Steve,” Bucky said, turning his head on the pillow to look at him, dark eyes unreadable in the shadowed room. “We can talk later.”

Bucky turned on his side, his back to Steve. Steve wiped off his stomach with the edge of the sheets and tugged up his sleep pants. He turned on his side and reached for Bucky, curling his arm over Bucky’s waist and slipping in behind him.

“Is this okay?”

“Cuddle all you want.” Bucky chuckled, grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling it to rest against Bucky’s chest. “Sleep, Rogers.”

Steve didn’t think he could sleep – his mind was racing with so many questions – but he was lulled by the warmth of Bucky’s body against his, the way that he could feel the steady thump of Bucky’s heard under his palm, and Steve allowed himself to smile a little, thinking that they would wake up in the morning, shower, and Steve could make them breakfast and finally talk about what they wanted.

***

When his alarm rang at 7:00 AM, Steve woke up alone in bed. A part of him wasn’t surprised, but he felt the disappointment sink into his belly.

“Bucky?”

He leaned up on his elbow, listening for sounds of Bucky in his house. He grabbed his phone from the bedside table, pressing in his security code, and was somewhat relieved to see an early morning text from Bucky waiting for him.

[](http://i769.photobucket.com/albums/xx337/house_of_lantis/bucky2.jpg.png)   


 

He stared at Bucky’s text and contemplated what to send in response. He typed in a quick message of his own. He had to shower and get to the studio for his 8:00 AM call.

_Did he make a mistake?_

_Did he take advantage?_

_Was he just being paranoid?_

Steve really didn’t know.

***

He was exhausted by the time they finished his last scene. He checked his phone but hadn’t missed any calls or texts from Bucky. With a heavy sigh, Steve left the dressing room and headed for the exit.

“Hey, did Bucky survive his massive hangover this morning?” Clint asked, walking up to him.

Steve kept his smile. “I’m sure he did. He left pretty early but I haven’t heard from him all day.”

“Probably ran home to his mom’s house to be pampered,” Clint said, smiling. “Want to get something to eat? We could go for some burgers.”

“Maybe next time? I’m totally wiped out, didn’t get enough sleep,” he said, and then flushed when he realized how that sounded.

Clint laughed, patting his back. “Yeah, man, sorry for waking you up in the middle of the morning but Sam and I figured that you’d probably want the Buckster under your roof than us dumping him on the side of the street.”

Steve shook his head, chuckling. A part of him wondered maybe it would’ve been better if one of them had taken Bucky home to crash on their couch instead.

“See you tomorrow,” Clint said, giving him a wild salute.

He nodded to his friend and stood outside the studio, wondering if he should just get a taxi or walk a couple of blocks and subway it home. It wasn’t too late and it was a pretty cool summer night; the city was starting to light up and Steve could blend into the night. He pulled on his baseball cap and pulled his messenger back over his head to cross in front of his chest, heading towards the nearest subway stop.

***

Steve leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly eating his chicken salad, his TV on ESPN4 watching the New York Epic professional dodgeball team slaughter the Boston Undertakers. He drank his beer, laughing when Yoshida took down Cutter with an awesome sneak attack from behind one of his team mates. It reminded him of the movie “Dodgeball” and he wondered if the National Dodgeball League was the inspiration.  

He heard his front door open and close and Steve stepped into the hallway, surprised to see Bucky standing in the small foyer, his hand on the doorknob.

Bucky looked exhausted, like he hadn’t gotten any rest during his day off, and he was still wearing the clothes from the night before. His long hair was down, stringy and matted in the back. Bucky tossed his keys on the small table by the door, his hand turning the lock.

“Hey, Bucky,” Steve said, tentatively.

He turned and stared at Steve; his blue eyes dark with lust.

Steve waited to see what Bucky would do next, and it wasn’t a long wait because Bucky took two steps towards Steve, his hands warm against Steve’s neck, leaning close to press his lips against Steve’s mouth.

It was so different from the way that Bucky kissed him on the show. Their onscreen kisses were hard and fast, made to _look_ passionate without the passion, all controlled and technical, with the crew around them, lights filtered correctly to prevent dark shadows falling across someone’s face.

It was so different from the slow kisses from the night before.

This kiss, this had _heat_ , and Bucky’s wide mouth was hot and wet, his clever tongue slipping into Steve’s mouth, and plump lips sucking on his tongue. Steve sighed into it, holding Bucky close, and moan-laughed when Bucky reached down and squeezed Steve’s ass.

“Hmm…I want you,” Bucky said, taking his mouth again with a long, deep kiss. “Want you so much, Steve.”

He nodded, holding Bucky’s head and gentling their kisses. “Yeah. Okay, but maybe we should talk—“  

Steve gasped and blinked hard when Bucky turned them, slamming Steve against the wall, rattling the pictures on its hooks. He grabbed Steve’s wrists and pulled them down, twisting them so that he held them against Steve’s lower back, trapping him between the wall and Bucky’s firm chest.

“Not so rough, Bucky,” Steve whispered, looking into his eyes.

“I’m going to take good care of you, baby,” Bucky murmured, nipping gently down Steve’s neck. “Keep your hands there.” He let Steve go, running the palms of his hands up Steve’s arms to his shoulders, sliding down Steve’s chest, thumbing his nipples, fingers brushing under the tee-shirt and tracing his skin with rough circles.

He kissed Steve, deep and slow, one hand sliding between them to cup Steve’s cock, squeezing firmly. Steve moaned into the kiss, his hands moving from behind him to grip the back of Bucky’s jacket, pulling him closer.

Bucky gave a dark growl, grabbing Steve’s wrists and slamming them against the wall by his head. It didn’t hurt, but it shocked Steve enough to make him gasp and pull away, staring at Bucky.

“I said…keep your hands there,” Bucky said, looking into his eyes.

“Bucky—“

“ _Shhh_ …let me do this for you. Let me suck your cock.”

Steve opened his mouth…and stopped. _What, was he going to protest?_ Okay, maybe he was going to _kind of_ protest but his cock was hard under his track pants and watching Bucky slither down Steve’s body to his knees, smile crooked and blue eyes staring up at him with an intense look of desire, was starting to short circuit Steve’s brain.

He watched as Bucky inched down the waistband of his pants, grabbing hold of his briefs and sliding them both slowly to his knees. Steve kept his hands against the wall, fingers digging into the cold plaster to stop him from dragging his fingers into Bucky’s hair, and watched in astonishment as Bucky licked his lips and took the head into his mouth with a slow, wet slide into his hot mouth.

Steve breathed through his mouth, unable to look away from Bucky’s mouth and then Bucky’s eyes. He bit his bottom lip at the deep suction, his thighs shaking under Bucky’s hands.

“Bucky…”

He took Steve’s cock deep and then gagged, and Steve moaned at the feel of the hard contraction of Bucky’s throat, his sweaty palms slipping against the wall.

Steve ran his hands through Bucky’s hair, arching his hips when Bucky bobbed his mouth up and down along his cock, tongue sweeping around the head, and lips curled around the head. He pulled away, letting Steve’s cock slip out, sliding his rough, scruffy chin down the length of him to gently mouth his balls.

“God, Bucky, please.”

He reached down and grabbed Bucky under the arms, pulling him up to his feet, and kissed Bucky’s mouth, tasting musk and the staleness of cigarettes, and he didn’t care, he just wanted more.

“Come upstairs,” Steve murmured against Bucky’s lips, nibbling gently.

“Go,” Bucky said, pulling away, swollen lips curled in a grin.

Steve blushed hotly as he pulled up his pants under Bucky’s watchful eyes and reached for Bucky’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss, walking him to the stairs. Bucky chuckled, both of them tripping along and holding each other up, banging into walls and knocking down picture frames to the carpet.

Bucky pushed Steve down on the bed and they quickly undressed, tossing clothes haphazardly, staring at each other.

He leaned over Steve, eyes dark with intent, as he kissed up Steve’s thigh, licking up the length of Steve’s cock with a dirty grin. Steve braced himself up on his elbows, sucking on his bottom lip as he watched Bucky, taking him slow and deep, up and down, giving Steve his own personal show.

“Where do you keep your shit, Steve?”

“Bedside,” he said, breathlessly.

Bucky sucked a bruising kiss on his hip – that mark would be there for a while – before opening the top drawer of his bedside table to pull out the lube and condom. He knocked the drawer close and moved over Steve, kneeing his way between Steve’s thighs and pushing his legs apart.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Bucky said, squeezing lube on his fingers.

“Yeah?”

He leaned over Steve, bracing his elbow on the mattress, and kissed him roughly.

Steve gasped, feeling wet fingers against his hole, rubbing him firmly.

“Just relax, punk,” Bucky murmured, kissing down Steve’s neck and then sucking on his earlobe.

Steve snorted. “Not my first time, jerk.”

Bucky laughed against his ear, his fingers pressing into Steve. “Yeah?”

“Jesus, fuck!” Steve shouted, clenching around Bucky’s fingers. He grabbed him by the shoulders. “Yeah, a little more prep, Jesus!”

“Language,” Bucky said, biting Steve’s neck. “What would your mother say?”

“What would **your** mother say!” Steve barked, letting out annoyed laugh.

Bucky raised his head and met Steve’s eyes. “I can’t believe we’re talking about our moms with my fingers in your ass.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Ohmygod, I’m totally going to lose my hard on now, thanks.”

“ _Mmmm_ …baby, no you’re not,” Bucky said, giving him a smile.

Steve moaned when he felt Bucky’s fingers move into him slow and deep. He closed his eyes and let his body relax, pulling one of his legs up and tilting his hips slightly until Bucky’s fingers slid over his prostate.

“Do that again.”

“What? This?” He said, teasingly, pressing his fingers hard; he laughed when Steve huffed out a helpless groan, bucking against Bucky’s hand.

“Yes!”

“Please?”

“Yes, please!” Steve said, a little desperately.

Bucky kissed him and then moved back on his knees. He moved his two fingers in and out of Steve and then pressed in a third one.

“Fuck, a little warning!” Steve winced and bit his bottom lip hard, hands grabbing for the bedding. It didn’t hurt, but the stretch burned and Bucky wasn’t going to show him any mercy.

“Goddamn, Steve, I could do this all day.”

Steve groaned when Bucky slipped his fingers out. He opened his eyes to watch as Bucky ripped open the condom, winking at Steve cheekily as he slid the latex down his cock. He squeezed out lube into the palm of his hand and stroked it over his condom-covered cock, eyes moving over Steve with a predatory smirk on his lips.

Bucky grabbed Steve under his knees and pushed his legs up and apart. He took hold of his cock and lined the tip against his hole, eyes meeting Steve’s as he steadily pushed inside of him.

Steve bit back a groan and closed his eyes, arching into the push.

“Jesus, Steve…”

He moaned, his body adjusting to Bucky, feeling himself open up to the smooth glide of his cock inside of him. He opened his eyes to see Bucky staring down at him, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

“Hey…”

Bucky grunted and pulled his hips back and slammed into Steve, jarring him up the bed.

“God, Bucky!”

He did it again, holding Steve’s hips in a bruising grip.

“Bucky! Damn it!”

Bucky sucked on the soft skin of his knee, grunting as he fucked Steve hard and fast.

Steve was going to seriously kick him in the head. He groaned, freeing his legs from Bucky’s hands, wrapping them around Bucky’s hips and squeezing his legs until Bucky stopped, buried deep inside of him.

“Bucky!”

“Oh fuck, Steve…sorry, baby, sorry…don’t stop…let me have you…want you so bad.” He fell over Steve on his elbows, licking Steve’s neck and leaving sucking kisses on his collar, across his chest.

“Wait, just slow down. Not so hard,” Steve panted, bracing his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. He didn’t want to stop him, but he needed Bucky to get out of his own head. “Bucky, please.”

Bucky chuckled darkly against Steve’s ear. “God, you’re so fucking vanilla.”

He refused to be embarrassed and met Bucky’s teasing eyes. There was something unfamiliar in his gaze, lips curled into a mocking smirk. Passion burned deep through Bucky and Steve was losing him to it; leaving Steve behind, leaving him feeling used.

“Yeah.” He reached up and ran his hand down the side of Bucky’s face, gently. “Yeah, I guess I am. It doesn’t have to be rough for it to be good. What’re you trying to prove?”

Bucky closed his eyes and turned his face into Steve’s palm, biting his lower lip and letting out a low moan. He sucked in Steve’s thumb, licking it playfully. Steve inhaled sharply at the feel of Bucky’s teeth nipping on his skin, sucking hard as he opened his eyes and stared down at Steve, something cruel in the tilt of his smile.

“You have me,” he whispered, pulling his thumb out of Bucky’s mouth and tracing his plump bottom lip. “You’ve always had me, Bucky.”

Bucky blinked and then blinked again, coming back from whatever dark place he had gone. Steve smiled shakily up at him, looking into his eyes.

“You with me?”

“I’m…I’m with you,” Bucky murmured, bending down to kiss him, lips brushing against Steve’s mouth, taking care not to nip on his swollen lips, sucking gently and licking into Steve’s mouth carefully.

He let Steve’s wrist go and Steve made a pleased noise, running both of his hands over Bucky’s head, opening to Bucky’s kisses, wanting them to be deeper and deeper. This was what he’d needed from Bucky, what he wanted to share.

He eased his hold around Bucky’s hips, arching into him and encouraging him to start moving with the press of his hips.

“Come on, Bucky,” he whispered, in between kisses.

“Steve…”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling.

“Steve…”

“Right here, pal.”

Bucky groaned, keeping his movements slow and gentle, one hand slipping under Steve’s ass to caress his skin, urging him into a better position. Steve kept his arms around Bucky’s back, kissing his face, his neck, whispering reassurances and praise against Bucky’s ear.

They both groaned when Bucky fucked into him hard, but it wasn’t rough, it wasn’t mindless. Bucky looked at Steve, a fierce smile on his lips. He reached between them and curled his hand around Steve’s cock, stroking the sensitive head.

“Oh yes Buck,” Steve stuttered, sighing deeply.

Bucky pressed his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. “Fuck, fucking fuck—“

He could feel Bucky jerk against him, trembling, muffling more curse words against Steve’s skin as he shuddered, pushing his cock even deeper into Steve and stilling, for just a moment, and then shaking as he came.

Steve groaned, clinging to Bucky as he chased after his pleasure, coming in Bucky’s hand.

***

Steve woke up to the sound of Bucky getting dressed in the dark. “What time is it?”

“Early,” he said, sitting on the bed to pull on his socks.

“Why’re you up to so early then?” Steve said, smiling as he got up, curling his arms around Bucky and kissing the back of his neck. “If you’re not sleepy, we can fool around some more.”

Bucky chuckled, patting Steve’s arm with his hand. “I have a 5 AM call; yours isn’t until 9. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Steve bit his earlobe. “That’s rude, leaving without saying goodbye. Twice now.”

“I would’ve said goodbye,” he told him, turning to brush a quick kiss on Steve’s mouth.

“Fine,” Steve said, letting him go. He smiled up at Bucky. “What time you do you finish shooting?”

“Probably late.”

Steve felt the smile slip from his face a little at Bucky’s closed off expression. “You all right, Buck?”

“I need to go. I don’t want to be late. You should get some more sleep – don’t forget to set your alarm,” he said, bending down to give Steve a soft kiss. “See you later?”

“Sure,” he said, nodding slowly.

He watched as Bucky walked out of his bedroom. He put his hand on the doorway and turned, smiling at Steve. “I had a fun time last night, we should do it again.”

And with a wink, Bucky left the room. Steve waited until he heard the sound of the front door open and close, the locks turning.

 _“I had a fun time last night?”_ Steve said, making a face. “What the hell?”

Because _that_ was the kind of dismissive thank you and goodbye you gave to a one-night stand, someone you didn’t intend to call or see again. And then it dawned on Steve that maybe Bucky thought this was a one-night stand; that it didn’t mean anything beyond two best friends giving each other a hand, a friendly kind of fuck.


	6. ACT FOUR: The Wrap Up (PART B)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Images: Google.

Steve grabbed a bottle of water from the nearby refreshments table and walked towards his assigned director’s chair tucked away against the far wall to wait for the crew to reset and relight the set. He pulled out his phone from the chair side pocket to see if Bucky had texted him or called him back.

_No such luck._

“Hi Steve, great work in that scene today,” Phil said, walking towards him.

He smiled. “Thanks, Phil. I like how this episode is going.”

“Good, good.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Actually, Steve, could I speak to you privately, please? Come over to my office. I’ve let Joe know that I’m going to steal you for a few minutes.”

“Uh…sure.”  

Steve’s gut clenched, instinctively knowing that whatever put that anxious look on the face of the normally unflappable showrunner, it probably had to do with Bucky.

“Something _is_ wrong,” Steve said, getting out of his chair and putting his phone into his pocket.

“I don’t know for certain yet, but Charles and Rick are here from the studio and they’ve brought in Louis from Legal.”

It wasn’t unusual that studio executives would visit the set to talk to Phil, the director, writers, producers, or even the cast. But it was definitely a little more unusual when a studio lawyer visited the set. It usually meant someone was going to get called on the carpet for doing something that concerned the studio VPs.

“Legal?” He said, frowning. “Why would they bring the studio lawyer?”

He followed Phil through the set, out into the hallway, and into Phil’s office.

“Steve, you remember Rick Allen and Charles Monroe; and this is Louis Hampton.”

Steve shook their hands as Phil closed the door.

“I don’t want to worry you needlessly, but have you heard from James recently?”

“Not since early this morning. What’s going on, Phil?”

“Matt from second unit called me to tell me that James missed his call time and we haven’t been able to get ahold of him all morning,” Phil said, softly. “We were hoping that you might be able to contact him or find him.”

He took a deep breath, shaking slightly. “I’ve texted him all morning but he didn’t respond to my messages. I just figured that he was on location so…Phil, he’s never missed work; he’s never late to anything. Bucky’s a professional.”

“Which is why we’re concerned,” Rick said, staring hard at Steve. “Does James have a history of any kind of drug use or—“

“Hey, wait a minute, Bucky does not have a drug problem,” Steve said, raising his voice. “I’m sure there is a very good reason why he’s not on set today—“

“Are you and _Bucky_ having any… _personal_ issues?”

Steve frowned and stared at Louis. “I don’t see what that has anything to do with this.”

“So you and James _are_ having personal issues. Issues that may have caused James to not show up for work?” Rick said, quickly.

“No—“

“Did you and Barnes have a little tiff or break up?” Charles said, giving Steve a look of distaste. “Maybe you should’ve kept your dick in your pants instead of in your co-star to prevent this kind of—“

“Excuse me?” Steve said, utterly offended.

“That’s enough, everyone,” Phil said, sternly. “This is counterproductive.”

Steve felt his face flush in anger. “My personal life is none of your business.”

“No, of course not,” Phil said, apologetically. “But the fact of the matter is that James is still missing. We’ve called every hotel in the city to see if he might have checked in, every hospital ER, and I’ve sent the drivers out to his mother’s house in Staten Island, but he’s not there. He seems to have dropped off the grid. Do you know where else he could be? With another friend perhaps?”

Steve sighed and looked away; he couldn’t outright lie to Phil, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell them about Bucky’s secret apartment. If Bucky was in trouble, if he was hurt somewhere and unreachable…Steve didn’t know what to think.

Phil stepped closer towards him. “You _do_ know where he could be.”

“Yeah, I…I have an idea, but I don’t want to violate his privacy—“

“Violate _his_ privacy? How about the fact that he’s currently under breach of contract,” Rick told him. “We’ve lost production time because of Barnes, that’s going to cost us in the—“

“That’s enough, Rick,” Phil said, sharply.

“Phil, everyone knows that you have a real hard on for Rogers, but this is business and—“

“You’ve crossed the line, Rick. If you continue on this path, I will end this meeting and recommend that Steve and James call their agents and their lawyers before either of them says another word to you again – not mention that I’ll be contacting my own lawyers – and yes, I will report this conversation to their management and you can deal with the fallout,” Phil said, simply, low and intense.

Louis sat up quickly. “Phil, the studio will not look favorably to your—“

Steve clenched his jaw, trying to breathe through the haze of his anger. Everything about this conversation was pissing him off. He wasn’t going to let them bully him, Bucky or Phil—

“And if that doesn’t get the message across, I’ll hold a press conference and I’m sure the studio will be delighted by the things that I will say. Don’t threaten me or members of my team.”

Steve stared at Phil, his mouth dropping open slightly. He had actually never seen Phil…angry…to be honest, Steve didn’t even know what to call it. Phil didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t curse; he didn’t lose his temper or his control. If he weren’t already so emotionally tied up with Bucky, he’d find Phil extremely alluring.

Phil took a deep breath and looked up at Steve, and Steve felt his face flush guiltily, unable to meet Phil’s steady gaze.

“I apologize, Steve, this was not how I wanted this meeting to go. I’m going to shut down first unit production today. We’ll make some adjustments and film scenes that you’re not in. I’d like it if you’d help us find James. I’m not worried about the missed day of work or about his contract; but I am worried about _him_. You’re right, he is a professional, and he’d never skip out on his obligations without a good reason. You know him better than anyone else. If something has happened to him, he’d trust you to help him. Would you do that for us, Steve?”

Steve nodded. “I’ll do it for Bucky. I can’t…promise anything, but I will do everything that I can to reach him.”

“Thank you, Steve. That’s all we want,” he said, patting Steve on the shoulder. “Go ahead; why don’t you get out of costume and take the day. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Steve said, softly. “I’ll check in once I’ve found him.”

“I would be relieved if you did.”

He left Phil’s office quickly, ignoring the loud voices behind the closed door, and made his way to the costume department to change into his clothes. He grabbed his messenger bag and pressed Bucky’s speed dial number, putting the phone to his ear. It went straight to voicemail. He took a deep breath, making sure that his voice was calm.

“Bucky, it’s me. Everyone is really worried that you didn’t show up to work today. I need to see you. Please call me back and tell me where you are, okay?”

He zipped up his blue hoodie and walked out of the studio and to the street, taking a moment to look around, wondering how he was ever going to find Bucky. He knew Bucky was probably freaking out, but he didn’t know _why_? There was no way that Steve was going to let anything bad happen to his best friend. If Steve had to give up the physical aspect of their relationship, he would rather have Bucky as his best pal than lose him completely.

Steve walked to towards the curb, his eyes scanning for a taxi. He held up his hand; there was one person he could think of that might know how to find Bucky.

***

**Stark Tower**

**450 E 45 th Street **

****

 

Steve walked into the main lobby of Stark Tower and pulled out his phone, flicking through his contacts for Tony’s private number. He held up the phone to his ear, people watching in the lobby.

“Well, this is a delight, sport,” Tony said, chuckling softly.

“Hey, Tony, are you home? I’m in the lobby. Can I come up to see you? It’s important.”

“Important? Have you come to tell me that you have the hots for me? Better not. Pepper might not take it well. She’d take my heart out with a repulsor laser – and that’s her being sweet to me – no telling what she’d take from you.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head. “No, I promise that I’m not here to make a declaration for you.”

“ _Hmmm_ …shame, your loss,” Tony murmured, laughing. “Well…I am quite swamped right now so…”

“Tony…please, it really is important.”

Tony was unpredictable, and Steve found himself holding his breath for Tony’s answer. Usually, when Tony wasn’t due to be on set, he didn’t like to be bothered, presumably because he was working on some engineering technological miracle.

 _Come on, Tony,_ he thought, impatiently.

Tony made a curious humming sound. “All right, you’ve got my attention now, Rogers. I’m in my workshop, so go to the east side of the building and locate the freight elevator.”

Steve looked around the lobby for signs for the east wing and started walking through the marble hallway. “Okay.”

“Get in and hit 32. Then press your thumb against the reader and come on up. I’m programming in your access now.”  

“Okay…but how would you know that it’s my thumbprint?”

Tony laughed. “Come on, kid.”

He ended the call.

Steve stepped into the elevator and pressed the number 32 and then held his thumb on the digital pad. The doors pinged and closed, the elevator rising.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the elevator wall. He knew that Tony would be able to find Bucky’s secret apartment. In the taxi ride across town, he debated with himself on using Tony’s extensive access to Stark Industries military and commercial right-of-entry points to violate Bucky’s privacy like this. He was a **complete hypocrite** ; after telling Bucky not to follow him, not to violate his trust, here he was doing the same exact thing – maybe it was even worse than what Bucky did…maybe Tony would tell him to fuck off, keep him from doing something utterly stupid or unforgivable. If anyone knew what it was like to have their privacy and trust violated, even before getting into acting, it was Tony Stark.

Unlike Tony, who was practically born in the spotlight, most actors had a ready-made story for how they got started in the business – effectively, it was a heavily edited origin story – a love of drama; a need to portray emotions and actions they wouldn’t in their own lives; a way to escape into a fantasy playground; unable to imagine doing anything else; immortality and glory; fame and fortune and sex.

Earlier in his career when Steve was starting to gain a little more notoriety for his work, his origin story was carefully crafted by his management.

_“Well, when I was younger, I was short and skinny. There wasn’t anything all that remarkable about me; you don’t need to blend in if no one can see you because you’re below everyone’s eye line. So I joined the drama club because I could become someone else. I didn’t have to be this weird, lonely, awkward kid. It gave me an opportunity to build up my self-confidence,” he said, smiling shyly and giving a self-deprecating shrug._

_His team stared at him for a long moment, taking notes on his delivery and believability._

_“It rings true to me; I’d buy it,” his agent said, shrugging. “But he’s always come off as genuine. Look at his face, he’s like the boy-next-door. I mean, shit, he was in the USO and there were never any stories of him being a brat or sleeping around.”_

_Steve made a face, crossing his arms. “Hey, come on—“_

_“But it’s kind of…vanilla,” his publicist said, making a face. “I mean, if that’s the kind of public image we’re going for, then it’s a good start.”_

_Steve shrugged. “It’s also about 99% true.”_

_“The studios will eat it up; he’s a professional.”_

_“He does need some heat, though.”_

_“So, Steve, what’s the 1%?”_

_“No, no, this works. There should be a little bit of mystery to him. Not a whole lot, though, but just enough where he can get a diversity of roles and audiences aren’t confused over who he is.”_

_“People don’t trust a person without a bit of a dark side to them. It doesn’t make you human.”_

_Steve stared at his management team. “What part of feeling invisible and lonely doesn’t make me human?”_

_“How about if you say that your mother’s death was the impetus to you going into acting; to channel your emotions to—“_

_“No,” he said, his voice hard. “No one is going to use the memory of my mother as part of a PR campaign. I don’t ever want to hear anyone on my team referencing Sarah Rogers’ name as anything but my mother. Is that clear?”_

_“All right, then we need to talk about Bucky.”_

Bucky’s origin story was also carefully crafted, mostly to keep the focus off his military service.

_“I don’t care about all this, Steve, it’s all bullshit. There’s nothing in my service record that won’t stand up to public scrutiny. Besides, the public won’t ever know about my missions or my role in those missions because it’s classified, so it’s a moot point.”_

As much as the PR guys loved Bucky for his ability to charm the press and his “I’m just a kid from Brooklyn” attitude, he was still a PR nightmare because he pretty much just rolled with what he felt rang true with him instead of using some trite statement.

_“You and Steve Rogers grew up together in Brooklyn,” the interviewer prompted._

_“Yeah, we’re just a couple of Brooklyn boys. That punk was constantly getting punched around, but he’d always get back on his feet. I spent my entire teenage years watching his back while he stood up to bullies and assholes. And to be perfectly frank, it’s not all that different in the entertainment business. There are a lot of people with huge fucking egos in this town who think it’s okay to bully someone just because they’re in a position of power to do it; just because they’re holding a job over someone’s head. You look at Steve now, no one’s going to mess with him; but he’s still that 90-pound kid under all that muscle. Someone needs to watch his back.”_

_“So it’s pretty clear that you and Steve Rogers are…close?”_

_“Is this that Stucky stuff again? Yeah, my sisters told me about all that stuff online.” Bucky laughed, good-naturedly. “Are you asking if we’re fucking? Man, people want to know everything.”_

The first time Steve’s publicist showed him Bucky’s interviews, they were concerned with Steve’s association with him. 

_“What’s a Stucky?”_

_“Stucky. Steve and Bucky. They have a name for you two. We really recommend limiting your contact with him in public. There are a number of events coming up, why not attend them with Tony.”_

_Steve widened his eyes. “With Stark? Umm…he’s actually in a private, long-term relationship with someone and I have no interest in getting mixed up with that.”_

_“But that’s good. If Tony wants to keep his private relationship out of the press, what better way to do it than to be seen out in public with you? We could talk to his people—“_

_“No, absolutely not! No, don’t talk to his people. Don’t try to – look, everything Bucky’s ever said about me or about our friendship in his interviews is true. I’m not going to distance myself from my best friend. If people don’t like it, or think that there’s something more, I really don’t care.”_

_“Can you at least address the rumors that you and James are…more than best friends?”_

_Steve stared at his publicist. “Why address them at all?”_

_“Actually, I agree with you; and Tony Stark is far too dark to be seen with Steve. It would send the wrong message to the public.”_

Tony Stark’s origin story was already well documented in the press and tabloids by the time he decided to go into acting. Steve remembered when he first heard of Tony Stark, son of legendary industrialist Howard Stark and heir to a billion-dollar company, who stepped down as CEO of Stark Industries to pursue a different career. Here was a man who had the world in his pocket, already a billionaire when he got started, and he was going to auditions like every other working actor.   

_Clint smirked, shaking Tony’s hand. “Tony Stark, huh? Didn’t that lady reporter call you the ‘Merchant of Death’?”_

_“That’s not bad.” Tony laughed, heartily. “I’ve been called a lot worse in the tabloids.”_

Steve remembered the news reports of when Tony took the new Freedom Line, what Tony once boasted was the crown jewel of Stark Industries, to demo for the US military in Afghanistan. The _Jericho_ missile system was based on his new repulsor technology. And then his convoy was attacked while they were returning to base. It was reported that a squadron of Blackhawks, out on training maneuvers, heard the mayday call and went in to assist, saving Tony from a fate worse than death and keeping the new weapons out of the hands of terrorists.

_Tony scoffed. “They didn’t care about me; they were more concerned about losing the missiles. I had my eyes opened that day and I realized, while I was lying there bleeding, watching the young soldiers in the convoy die trying to protect me, that I had a lot more to offer this world than just making things that blow up. So I went into acting.”_

He would sometimes talk about his inventions, his improvements on current technologies, and how he refused to patent anything because he didn’t want anyone, especially the military, to get their hands on his work to reverse engineer and weaponize his inventions.

_“Not even dad can get his hands on any of my stuff, though I did tell him that I’d help him build an Arc Reactor for the Tower. Fun times.”_

The elevator doors opened and Steve stepped out to see Tony leaning against the doorway to his workshop, waving for Steve to follow him inside. Steve grinned to himself, looking Tony over. Steve thought Tony was more frat boy mad scientist than billionaire or popular actor. He was dressed in a ratty _Black Sabbath_ tee-shirt and battered jeans, his feet bare as he padded across the floor. The deafening rock music was turned down to lower decibels. Steve had been invited to the Tower numerous times, for parties or to dinner, but never to the infamous workshop. He knew this was Tony’s sanctuary from the world, a place where he could put his genius mind and engineering skills to good use.

“How did you even get my thumbprint?”

Tony raised his eyebrow. “Do you really want to know?”

Steve smiled. “No, I guess not.”

“Well, Rogers, you have my full attention. What do you want?”

“Wow, this is really incredible,” he said, looking around the large, open room. There were tables laden with equipment that Steve didn’t understand; schematics and digital blueprints on computer screens; robotics and other technological marvels that weren’t commercially available outside of Tony’s workshop. “Some days, I wonder why you didn’t just stay in the business.”

Tony smirked. “And take the spotlight away from dad?”

“But you could be doing such great work.”

“I like acting,” he said, simply. “So, are we just going to have tea or are you going to tell me why you needed to see me?”

Steve took a deep breath and sat down on a work stool, putting his messenger bag on the floor. “Bucky didn’t show up for work today and no one can reach him or find him.”

Tony frowned, scratching at his chin, and giving Steve a shrewd look. “And you want me to use my considerable access to private information to locate him.” His brown eyes glittered with glee. “ _Ohhh_ , Rogers, I didn’t know you had it in you. This is definitely a moment to savor.”

“Savor…what?”

“Popping your moral cherry,” he said, laughing. “You know, a lot of people ask me to do things that most find morally reprehensible – not me, though, I don’t judge and I’m always in for a good time. Besides, dad always said not to throw stones at glass houses.” He grinned, narrowing his eyes. “I just never once considered _Mr. All-American_ to be one of the herd.”

Steve didn’t particularly find that funny or reassuring. He stared at the floor and took a steadying breath; he felt guilty enough as it was without Tony adding to it.

“I feel terrible for asking. I know it’s a total invasion of privacy…but I’m desperate. I wouldn’t ask if there was any other way,” he said, softly. “If I can find Bucky and make sure he’s okay, I’ll learn to live with my decision.”

“Haven’t _asked_ me yet, Boy Scout.”  

Steve looked at him for a long moment. He knew what Tony meant; he wanted Steve to ask so that he wouldn’t be able to say that he was blameless if this all went down the drain. But Steve didn’t care what Tony thought about him and Steve wasn’t the kind of man who’d shuffle the blame off to someone else.

“Bucky has a secret city apartment but no one knows where it is. I need you to break into Bucky’s private records and find the address.”

Tony leaned against the edge of his work table, arms crossed in front of his chest. He stared at Steve without saying anything and Steve considered that Tony was going to tell him no.

“Well, damn, I never actually thought you’d ask,” he murmured, raising his eyebrows.

Steve leaned down to pick up his messenger bag. “Okay, well, if you’re not going to, I need to figure out how to find him another way. Thanks anyway—“

“JARVIS, go through New York’s real estate property title database and search for all holdings under the name James Barnes,” Tony said, sitting down at his work desk and leaning his elbows on the table, staring at the large computer screen as it scrolled through a number of different database records.

Steve leaned closer, his mouth opening in awe. “Holy shit, Tony, you can access that?”

“There’s not much that I can’t get into,” he said, propping his chin up with his hand. “Do you think Bucky will forgive you for this?”

“I hope so,” Steve said, softly. “I can live with him being mad at me if I can just know that he’s okay.”

“Sir, there are thirteen title listings in the state of New York under the name James Barnes,” JARVIS said, his voice filling the room.

Steve looked around the room, his eyes widening. “What was…your computer talks to you?”

“It’s my voice activated AI system,” Tony said, chuckling at Steve’s expression. “Dad has a batman named Mr Jarvis, so I created my own.”

“Your dad has a Batman?”

Tony gave him a bored look. “No, a batman is your adjutant; a right hand man. Or a really smart butler.”

“I am much more than your butler, sir,” JARVIS intoned, sarcastically.

“True enough. Steve, meet JARVIS – Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. JARVIS, this is Steve Rogers.”

“Hey, JARVIS.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.”

Steve grinned. “Why does he have a British accent?”

“Who knows; he picked it himself. Probably so he can be all upper-crusty and superior. He’s a learning program – something that I’ve been working on since I was a kid – but Dad won’t let me release JARVIS into the rest of the building. I mean, just think how much more efficient everything could be if JARVIS had access to—“

“Tony! Come on, focus, I need to find Bucky. You can give me the whole spiel later, okay?”

He narrowed his eyes for a moment and then sighed. “JARVIS, narrow your search parameters to New York City.”

“I found three listings of James Barnes in New York City, sir.”

“Pull up the map and pin all three of the locations,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair.

A city map of Manhattan appeared on the screen, three red flags showing the location. One was in Harlem, one was in the Upper West Side, and one was in Brooklyn.

“JARVIS, what’s the address for the one in Brooklyn?” Steve said, tapping his finger on the flag near Brooklyn Bridge Park.

“The location is 360 Furman Street, apartment 807.”

Steve frowned as he pointed his finger to his own house. JARVIS increased the street map of Steve’s Brooklyn Heights neighborhood with a clear navigation path from his house on Pineapple to Furman.

“That’s less than a mile from my house!”

Tony chuckled, typing quickly on his ergonomic futuristic keyboard as lines of code scrolled down the screen, too fast for Steve to make any kind of heads or tails of it. “Your boy likes to be close.”

“You know, you’re the second person who has referred to Bucky as ‘my boy.’ He’s not, you know, not really.”

“Not _yet_ ,” Tony said, raising his eyebrow, a fierce grin on his lips.

“Thank you, Tony,” he said, meeting Tony’s eyes. “No matter what you may think of me for asking for this…it’s not because I want to use it to hurt him or anything like that.”

“I didn’t think so,” he said, softly. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Tony winked broadly at Steve, laughing to himself.

He walked towards the door to the hallway. “See you tomorrow.”

“Four-eight-seven-seven!”

Steve turned around and raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“That’s the key code to get into the building. You’re going to need that.”


	7. ACT FOUR: The Wrap Up (PART C)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES: There’s a lot of talking in this chapter and then some sex (finally)! Warnings for minor angst, suggestion of rough/dubcon sex, rimming, and implied PTSD. I updated the story tags to include these warnings.
> 
> IMAGE: Google/online real estate blog.

**360 Furman Street**

**Apartment 807**

****   


 

_Less than a mile from his own house; Oh geez, Bucky._

He knocked on the door three times. “Bucky? Bucky, it’s Steve.”

No answer; but he knew Bucky was inside.

“Bucky, come on, please open the door.”

Steve leaned against the door jam, knocking gently, keeping his voice low and gentle.

“Hey, I really need to see you. Just come to the door, okay? I just need to see that you’re okay.”

He could hear footsteps coming towards the door, stopping short.

“I know you can hear me. Just let me know you’re okay, James. Please?”

Locks unbolted and the door opened slightly, Bucky looked warily out at him from the doorway, his body blocking the entrance. Steve was relieved that Bucky didn’t look worse for wear; but there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, hair sticking up every which way and falling out of the loose ponytail. He was dressed in a threadbare white tee-shirt and black jeans. He reeked of cigarettes and he probably needed a shower.

“Hey,” he said, smiling at Bucky.

“Hey,” Bucky said, glancing up at Steve and giving him a tentative smile. “What do you want?”

“I just want to talk.”

Bucky stared at him, biting his lower lip, and then dropped his gaze, staring at the floor. Steve watched as Bucky dragged his bared toes against the hardwood floor. “This isn’t really a good time…”

“We’ve been worried about you. You missed work and didn’t call in,” he said, trying to catch Bucky’s eyes. “Bucky. Please. Let me in.”

He sighed, resignedly, and opened the door the rest of the way, waving for Steve to come inside.

“Do I even want to know how you found my place?” Bucky said, going into the living room and picking up his pack of cigarettes, lighting one up. He walked towards the wall of windows, pushing them open one by one.

Bucky’s place wasn’t what Steve was expecting; the way that Bucky described it, it sounded like a hovel. But his apartment was spacious, high ceilings with an eclectic looking ceiling fan, with a wall of windows that let in natural light – Steve would love to draw Bucky in this space someday – one wall painted a blue-gray, another wall built with gorgeous blue-gray-brown stone work, an open kitchen with high end appliances. He had passed two doors – one was a luxurious looking bathroom, the other was a small bedroom. It was uncluttered and there was comfortable looking furniture, various knick-knacks, museum art books, a TV – it was much more than just a place where Bucky crashed when he wanted to be alone.

This was the first time Steve had ever seen a space that belonged solely to Bucky. He lived at his ma’s house; he had a room with housemates in LA; he had a place to bunk down at Steve’s house but it wasn’t a space that Bucky called his own; and he probably lived in barracks or military housing when he was in the service. This apartment was something that Bucky bought for himself, filled with the things that he wanted, and Steve had to admit that he was pretty fascinated by Bucky’s choices. It was like getting to see a part of his best friend that he didn’t know he was missing.

“I’m sorry. I asked Tony to look up your address in the state’s property database,” he said, closing the door and following Bucky into the apartment. “I completely understand and accept that you’re probably really angry at me for violating your privacy.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky bit the cigarette filter with his teeth, grinning at him. “I guess that makes us even for me tailing you that one day, huh? Maybe I ought to give you a speech about how you should respect my boundaries.”

Steve flinched, he was expecting it, but it still made him feel like a jerk. “I deserved that.” He met Bucky’s eyes, guiltily. “I guess I know what it was like for you when I was ignoring you.”

Bucky snorted and turned away, leaning his elbows on the long shelving counter, looking out the window.

“This is a really beautiful space, Bucky. I can see why you’d want to keep it to yourself.”

He smirked, looking over his shoulder at Steve. “Hey, if you’re not going to be sore at me for keeping it a secret for this long, then I’m not going to be sore at you for finding me out.”

“I was never mad about that.”

Steve pulled off his bag and unzipped his blue hoodie, stepping further into the room. His mouth dropped open when he saw what Bucky had used to decorate along the stone wall above the blue sectional.

There were a dozen carefully and professionally matted black picture frames along the wall, each of them holding a drawing by Steve. The rest were simply taped up haphazardly on the stones – they were all sketches that Steve had given to Bucky over the years. It covered nearly the entire space, some papers overlapping others; some yellowed with age. Steve couldn’t tell why Bucky had framed the ones that he did and taped up the others.

“You…kept them?” He flipped through several pages, seeing the progression of his skill, not even remembering half the drawings. He blushed, a little embarrassed, to see some of his earliest drawings, probably from when he was a kid.

“Yeah.” Bucky didn’t look at Steve. “Your ma sent me a box of keepsakes…before she passed. Old photos, sketches, stuff like that.”

Steve dropped his messenger bag on the brown shag carpet by the sectional, not knowing what he should feel. He was elated to know that Bucky saved all of his drawings, a little shiver of pride awakening in his mind. Bucky didn’t seem to have any real obsessions, so seeing this – seeing Bucky’s obsession for Steve’s drawings so clearly on display now – it unsettled him a little, too.

“I always wondered what she did with them. You kept _all_ of them? There must be at least a hundred here.” 

Bucky chuckled. “Of course I would, pal, you drew them. You gave me a lot of them over the years. I, uh, might have taken a couple of your sketch books without asking you.”

_Definitely a little obsessive,_ he thought, wryly. But he wasn’t going to be mad about it. Bucky was his best friend, there was nothing Steve wouldn’t give or share with him, asked or not.

“Why?”

He turned to look at Bucky, who was futzing with the cigarette between his fingers, tapping it against the large marble ashtray on the counter by the windows.

“Wanted to have something of you,” he said, looking over at Steve. “I’ve been keeping them at ma’s house for years; when I got this place, just seemed like it was a good idea to put them all up.”

“This is like… _decades_ worth of my stuff.”

“Well, I’ve known you for a lot of years.” Bucky grinned, shyly. “Always did love your work.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he said, chuckling slightly. “Um…thanks?”

Steve walked towards him and leaned his elbows on the counter, looking out the window. The apartment had a view of the Brooklyn Pier and the Hudson River, right along the Promenade. They stood together in silence for a long time, just watching the cars driving past below; tug boats and ferries moving along the waters.

“Are you going to tell me why you’ve been ignoring me?”

Bucky laughed a little meanly, slowly, leaning his head back. He glanced at Steve and winked at him. “ _Maybe_ I’m just working through something in my head and part of it’s about you or my own mind that I just have to get over.”

Steve felt his face flush. “You don’t have to throw my words back at me.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Steve, why don’t you tell _me_ if you’ve worked through whatever’s been going through your mind and I’ll tell you what’s been going through mine.”

“Are you mad at me, Buck?”

Bucky crushed out the cigarette in the ashtray. “Yeah, maybe I am. Maybe I am a little mad at you.” He huffed out of his nose, scowling. “Shit. Maybe I’m just mad at myself.”

“Is it because we had sex?”

Bucky was silent, not looking at Steve.

“You left _me_ , both times.”

“I didn’t want to – maybe I just didn’t want to have to do…this,” he said, waving his hand.

Steve barked out an incredulous laugh, feeling a small itch of his own anger building. “ _This?_ You mean, talk? Hang out? See each other at work every day?” He shook his head and took a deep, calming breath. “Things didn’t have to become weird between us. If you just wanted to fuck me, blow off steam, then I would’ve liked a head’s up that that’s what you wanted from me. But now you’re skipping work, ignoring everybody, and I’m getting lectured by the studio guys about keeping it in my pants, and—“

“Did you tell them that? For God’s sake—“

“No, I didn’t! They accused me of causing trouble by sleeping with a co-worker—“

“I’m not just some _co-worker_ that you slept with, Steve.”

“I never said you were,” he said, determinedly. “But you haven’t even given me a chance to say anything about it.”

Bucky lit another cigarette, taking in a long drag. “So say it then.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding to himself. “Okay.”

In all the years between them, there were moments where Steve could’ve easily told Bucky how he felt about him; chances that he just never took. He’d let each moment pass without having said a word and now he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have been so scared; that maybe Bucky was waiting for _him_ to say something first. Because underneath Bucky’s bluster and his sour expression, Steve knew that Bucky was terrified.

Bucky joked that he had over 20 years of intel on Steve, but Steve knew just as much about Bucky. He’d gotten good at hiding his tells, probably because he had to while he was in the service, but Steve knew him well enough to know when Bucky was hiding from _him_.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, James,” Steve said, snagging the cigarette from Bucky and taking a drag off it. The smoke burned down his throat and into his lungs, forcing him to cough at the harsh taste of it, his eyes watering slightly. “That hasn’t changed since I was fourteen.”

It felt good to get that out there; like he didn’t have to carry it anymore. Maybe that was selfish of him to feel that way, but he knew that no matter what happened, Bucky would help him carry it.  

He held the cigarette out to Bucky, watching his hand tremble slightly as he took it back, putting the filter carefully into his mouth.  

“I don’t want to be someone you leave in the middle of the night when you’re done.”

Steve took a deep breath, propping his elbows on the counter and looking out at the river, giving Bucky a moment to process.

“Jesus, Steve, you’re the guy who jumps on the grenade, aren’t you?”

He took the cigarette back, inhaling the smoke a little easier now, a puzzled grin on his face. “I don’t know what that means, exactly – is that a test?”

Bucky chuckled for a moment and then fell silent and thoughtful. “When I was at Benning, at the Army Sniper School, there was this kid, tall skinny guy named Everett. He must’ve been 90-pounds wet and no one thought he’d make it through the seven-weeks of training. Only about 200 candidates are accepted to the school and the drop rate is like 98%, hell, I didn’t think I’d make it to the end. But this kid, he could do a long-range field calculation in his head, and he could haul his gear on rough terrain, and he took a hell of a lot of shit from everyone – instructors, all the candidates, everyone. But he was a good guy; had a good head on his shoulders. As far as I know, the kid still holds the record for longest evade crawl in a ghillie suit – 145 hours, six expert spotters couldn’t find him and the instructors started ordering him to show himself. Kid still wouldn’t do it; some of us got antsy, thinking that the kid might have gotten bit by a rattlesnake and died somewhere in the field.”

Steve stared at Bucky. “Ohmygod.”

“The Commandant had to come out to the field and order Everett to show himself or face court martial for insubordination,” he said, chuckling softly. “Shit, I didn’t think the kid would show himself even then.” Bucky grinned, shaking his head. “He was one of the best men I’d ever served with. If I was in the field, I’d want him watching my back.”

Steve looked at him and saw the way Bucky’s eyes went far away, his face slack. He’d never told Steve anything about his military service.

“Snipers, we’re a pretty tight group, so we hear when one of ours goes down in the field. There was an op, Everett was assigned to a team. They were under pretty heavy fire so he covered his team as best he could. He called in air support, did everything that he was supposed to do. The one rule of thumb for a sniper is to not get caught out in the open. It would take four minutes for air support to come in, all they had to do was just stay low and wait it out. The kid told his spotter to stay under cover and he got up and drew enemy fire away from his team. Saved a lot of men that day. He’s the kind of man who’d jump on the grenade to save his men’s lives – the first one to take action, knowing what he was risking, but doing it anyway because it was what he believed was the right thing to do.” 

“That’s…I don’t know if I could do that, jump on a grenade.”

“I think you would, without a second thought.” Bucky gave him a lopsided grinned. “One of the reasons why I liked that kid so much was because he reminded me a lot of you. Stood up to the bullying but didn’t hold a grudge; did his best because that’s all he ever knew how to be.”

Steve pressed his lips together and smiled, shrugging a little. It was tough to be compared to someone like that. Steve didn’t think he was particularly heroic or brave, but he appreciated that Bucky believed that Steve would try to do the right thing.

Buck plucked the cigarette from Steve’s fingers and took a long inhale off it. He met Steve’s gaze and smiled. “I’m in love you, too, I always have been, how could you not know that?”

Bucky held out the cigarette to Steve. He took it and tapped the lit edge against the ashtray, taking a lighter inhale of it. He let what Bucky said fill his head a little, his stomach fluttering with acceptance and happy to finally knock out some of the doubt that he’d carried for a long time.

“I know…I guess I’ve always known.”

“So what do you want from me?” Bucky said, looking at the cigarette in Steve’s mouth. “You want the whole happy-ending romance thing?”

Steve laughed. “I’m not a kid anymore; and between the two of us, you’re the one that’s all into romance so who are you even trying to kid, Buck?” He smiled, finishing the cigarette and crushing it out neatly in the ashtray. “I know it’s going to take a lot of work. You’re not always that easy to be around and I know I’m not always that easy either.”

“I don’t know, Stevie, you sure seemed pretty _easy_ last night.”

He kicked Bucky lightly in the leg and they both laughed. “Come on, I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Okay, being serious now. Well, first off, we need to deal with your jealousy—“

“My what!”

_He would not accuse Bucky of being a terrible flirt._

“And the fact that you’re overbearingly possessive—“

“I’m not overbearingly possessive!”

_Was he?_

“But you’ve always been possessive of me, so that’s probably not something new in your character.”

“What about you and your creepy stalking and—and using your scary military tactics on me?” Steve countered, raising his eyebrow.

Bucky smirked. “So we both have issues with boundaries, we can do couples therapy. I probably need it more than you do, I can accept that.”

Steve stared at him, his mouth open.

“I look at you and I want to keep you tied to my bed. I want to know every part of you, all the things that you hide from me. I want to push all of your buttons, find out what makes you tick, and then I want to push you over the edge,” Bucky said, his blue eyes darkening. “But I’m going to be right there with you, falling all the way down, together.”

_“Ohhhh...”_ Steve’s mind went blank; and he had to swallow down the rush of heat through his body.

“Most times, I want to protect you from me, keep you at a safe distance,” Bucky admitted, taking a deep breath and running his hand through his messy hair. He glanced at Steve and looked away. “I go to some dark places in my head, you know, there’s…a lot of stuff in there. About you, about what I did overseas, about everything. Sometimes, it gets jumbled up and you’re going to get hit with the brunt of it. I don’t want to hurt you, Steve, but I probably will.” He sighed, a rueful smile on his lips. “So that’s what’s been going through my head.”

Steve blinked, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times. He met Bucky’s eyes and gave him a small smile. “That’s a lot to take in.”

“I know.”

He reached out and curled his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “When I didn’t have anything, I knew I always had you. I trust you, more than any other person in this world.”

“And I don’t want you to ever regret that, Stevie, which is why you should probably think real clearly on whether or not you want to get involved with me,” Bucky said, firmly. “I have a lot of shit that I probably need to deal with, okay? And on top of that, I want to fuck you into the mattress until you’re a sweating, crying mess—“

“Why am I crying in this scenario?”

Bucky reached out and grabbed Steve’s hip, fingers tucking under his hoodie and tee-shirt to touch his skin, curling in hard enough to bruise. Steve winced and tried to pull away from Bucky’s hold.

“Because it turns me on to see you fucked stupid and out of control,” he said, darkly.

Steve blinked and swallowed, looking away. Bucky snagged him by the chin and turned his face back, looking into Steve’s eyes.

“But I want to take care of you, too; and I’m fucking terrified that I’ll scare you off.”

He licked his lips, his ears feeling hot as blood rushed through his brain. Bucky’s eyes dropped to Steve’s mouth and he leaned in close, a soft brush of his lips against Steve.

“Okay, that was…a little overwhelming, yeah, but…I’m still here, Buck.”

Bucky gazed at him, rubbing his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip. His blue eyes flicked up and held Steve’s gaze, searchingly. Whatever Bucky wanted to see, it must’ve satisfied him because he smiled, wide and genuine, a touch of astonishment in his tone. “Yeah, you are.”

He let go of Steve and they shared a look and a grin; this whole conversation had turned ridiculous, but this was them, and Steve wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I’m not going anywhere. Besides, figuring us out isn’t the hard part. It’s everything out there,” he motioned his chin to the city beyond the apartment.

“What? You worried about work?”

Steve made a face and nodded tentatively. “I know, it’s shallow, huh?”

“It’s not shallow. I know how much you love it. For you, you treat it like a real commitment,” Bucky said, laughing softly. “For me, it’s just a job. Don’t get me wrong, acting is a whole lot of fun, there’s been a lot of great perks, but if I never get another acting job again after this, I wouldn’t cry about it. I can always get a job working security or on the docks, whatever. So if you’re worried about hurting my career or whatever, then don’t. I’ll walk away from all that bullshit before I walk away from you.”

“I don’t think it’ll ever come to that,” Steve said, smiling at him. “But, thanks, Bucky.”

Bucky gave Steve a fond look, turning so that both of his hands curled around Steve’s hips. He stepped in close and tilted his head, looking at Steve. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m sorry I fucked up. Again.”

Steve chuckled. “You didn’t fuck up. We went right from being best friends to sex. Missed a couple of steps.”

Bucky laughed with him, swaying slightly.

“Remember when we went to our first school dance? I had to teach you how to hold a girl.”

“Random.” He laughed, putting his hands on Bucky’s shoulders, moving to and fro like they did in middle school. “You were a good dance partner.”

_The right partner_ , but Steve didn’t think he wanted to add to Bucky’s ego.

Bucky pulled him in closer, pressing his thigh between Steve’s legs, arms tightening behind his back. “Have I ever told you that you grew up nice?”

“You mean when you complained that I got taller than you?”

“Better this way, don’t have to crane my neck to suck on yours,” he murmured, nuzzling under Steve’s chin, nipping his skin gently.

Steve chuckled, pulling Bucky closer and running his hand into Bucky’s messy hair. He pulled off the hair tie, freeing his long, wavy hair.

“Bucky?”

“Hmmm?”

“Let’s have sex on your couch.”

Bucky raised his head and made a face. “On my couch? We can go to my bed—“

“I want to do you on the couch, under all of my drawings that you’ve been hoarding.”

“Steven, that couch is a custom made four thousand dollar _Viesso_ limited edition. We can’t have sex on that couch.”

He leaned down and kissed Bucky’s mouth. “We can break it in.”

“Steve—“

“Then bring a towel and get the supplies,” he said, turning Bucky around and giving his plump ass a gentle slap to get him moving. “Come on, soldier, hop to it.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes as he stared at Steve over his shoulder. “I don’t have a military kink, you know.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I want my cock sucked,” Bucky said, sauntering down the hallway into the bathroom. “And when I say that I want my cock sucked, I mean I want you to worship it! I want to see your mouth all red and puffy because you’ve been sucking on my cock for hours—“  

Steve kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, and threw off his hoodie. He tossed the rest of his clothes in a neat pile on the floor. His stomach fluttered with excitement and giddiness; and he couldn’t stop the wide smile that he knew was on his face.

Bucky walked back into the living room, holding a thick blue towel in one hand, condom and lube in the other.

“--worshipping it like you’ve never had a better cock in your mouth in your life—“ He stopped and stared at Steve, his lips curling into a slow smirk. “Damn it, Rogers, you really did grow up nice.”

“You’ve seen me naked.”

“My fault for not taking the time to appreciate it properly,” Bucky said, all charm now.

Steve put his hands on the waistband of his boxer briefs and slid the band lower, teasingly, watching as Bucky stared at him.

“Oh, don’t stop now, baby,” Bucky drawled, laying the towel on the couch cushions. He turned and faced Steve, reaching behind his neck to pull his tee-shirt off.

“Take off your pants.”

“Take off your shorts.”

“Is it always going to be like this?”

Bucky grinned. “Probably.”

Steve laughed, shoving his boxer briefs down, stepping out of them before he walked towards Bucky. He knelt on the floor and undid the button on his jeans, sliding his hands over the soft, worn denim, caressing the outline of Bucky’s hard cock underneath. He smiled, looking up at Bucky as he gently tugged down the zipper, and pulled the jeans down to his thighs.

Bucky’s cock stood out straight, pointing at Steve’s mouth, so he took in the head and sucked on it gently, getting it nice and wet.

“Steve,” Bucky breathed out, his hands going into Steve’s hair.

Steve winked at Bucky, his mouth full. He tilted his head and slid more of Bucky inside, dragging his tongue along the side and letting the head poke against his cheek.

“That’s so fucking _filthy_ , Rogers.”

He pulled off slowly, a long chain of spit hanging off his bottom lip to the head. He pushed Bucky on the towel and tugged off the tight jeans down his legs. He grabbed hold of Bucky’s hips and pulled him to the edge of the cushion, shouldering in between Bucky’s thighs.

“I’ll show you filthy,” he said, tucking his hand under one of Bucky’s knees and propping his leg up to brace Bucky’s foot against his shoulder. “Your feet stink.”

“Shut it, Rogers,” Bucky said, laughing, mouth opened wide.

Steve kissed the smooth, soft skin of Bucky’s belly, trailing his nails gently down the back of his thigh. He used the pad of his thumb to press against the rosy-skinned, wrinkled hole. He tapped the hole with the pad of his thumb, smiling when Bucky let out a throaty moan.

“Ready?” He leaned down and licked the crease where Bucky’s thigh met his hip, immensely pleased to feel Bucky quivering against him. He grinned against warm skin when he felt Bucky tremble.

“ _Jesus fucking Christ_ , are you going to…” Bucky muttered, curling his hands into Steve’s hair.

“Yeah.”

He nuzzled the tight balls, dragging his bearded chin against the soft skin. Bucky’s thighs were already trembling by the time Steve had ducked lower, the tip of his tongue pressing against his opening. He circled slowly, feeling the muscles clench and relax. Steve pursed his lips and sucked gently, noisily, running his tongue over and over, getting him wet with his spit, until he felt Bucky’s body melt against the couch cushions, his legs falling open and going limp.

Bucky moaned, his head arched back awkwardly against the back of the couch, hands tightening in Steve’s hair.

“Oh. Christ, Steve, the mouth on you,” he said, gasping. “Vanilla guy like you…fuck…I never took you for an ass man.”

Steve snorted, pushing his tongue into Bucky, as deep as he could go. Bucky whimpered and let out a breathy gasp. Steve chuckled when he felt the muscles fluttering and tightening around his tongue, trying to draw his tongue further inside.

It probably wasn’t the time to tell Bucky that he didn’t really do this often, but for Bucky he’d do anything, give him everything he wanted. A part of him, all the way back in his head, wondered if he had enough experience to compare. But he realized that Bucky wouldn’t care about any of that; that they would figure it out together.

 “Come on…more…Steve…please…”

“Greedy,” Steve murmured, licking him gently.

He held Bucky’s hips still as he squirmed against Steve’s face. He tasted earthy and stale, but it wasn’t going to stop him from driving Bucky crazy for it. Steve hummed his displeasure when Bucky pulled on his hair too hard, nearly bringing tears to his eyes. He pulled his tongue out and nipped sharply on the fleshy part of his ass, looking up at Bucky.

“Ow, my hair, Bucky!”

“Shit, sorry, sorry, sorry…”

Bucky was already so gone, his eyes squeezed shut, teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip to leave behind a red imprint. His long hair was stringy and tangled and matted against the back of the couch. He looked filthy and sexy and Steve loved it, loved seeing him like that. Steve curled his arms under Bucky’s legs and dragged him off the cushion further so that Bucky was balancing on his shoulders.

His cock was flushed a dark rosy color, wet at the tip, and Steve smiled, nosing up the hot length of him. “You should come in my mouth and then I’ll turn you around and fuck you slow until you get hard again.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open and he gazed down at Steve. “You’re killing me here, Rogers.”

Steve chuckled, running his hands up Bucky’s belly and to his chest. He took his time licking Bucky’s cock, all the way from the base to the tip, paying special attention to the head. He drew down the foreskin and ran his tongue around it, then sucked in the tip while he pinched Bucky’s nipples with his fingers.

Bucky, for lack of a better word, _bucked_ against him and Steve held him down with his chest, curling his lips around the plush head and sucking him _ohhh so slow_.

“Oh damn,” Bucky whimpered, his eyes were squeezed shut, his head moving back and forth against the back of the couch, the static from the fabric making his hair stick out everywhere. Steve thought it was endearingly hot to see Bucky so messed up and into it. “Just…get me off, Steve, come on, please.”

As promised, Steve worked to get Bucky off and took him as deep as he could. The position wasn’t a good one where he could open his throat, but this wasn’t the time to show Bucky his tricks. He wanted to see Bucky come, wanted to hear him moaning and out of his mind. Steve pressed his hands down against narrow hips and bobbed his head quickly, keeping the suction tight as he flicked his tongue over the tip.

Bucky stared at him, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth opening and gasping out sounds that made Steve blush to hear them.

“Steve…God, Steve…yes, baby, don’t stop,” he whispered, one hand clutching the top of the couch back, the other clinging to one of Steve’s wrists.

He used his free hand to wrap his fingers at the bottom of Bucky’s cock, stroking him quickly so he could concentrate on the head. He kept his eyes on Bucky, tasting the pre-come that started to flow against his tongue.

“ _Close_ …gonna…gonna come… _ohhhhh_ ,” Bucky panted out; his nails were digging into Steve’s skin.

Bucky gritted his teeth, his whole body twisting and arching against the cushion, both of his feet braced against Steve’s ribs. He held his breath and then let out a noisy groan that vibrated all the way down to the cock in Steve’s mouth, and he sucked and swallowed Bucky’s come, watery and bitter, squirting against his tongue.

He pushed his thumb up and down the pulsing vein along Bucky’s cock, like he was going to knead all of the come out of his balls.

Bucky shivered, knees flailing a little and nearly knocking into Steve’s head. Steve used his elbows to hold Bucky down and apart, sucking the head until he didn’t taste anything except his own spit, and Bucky’s hand gently pushed against Steve’s forehead, urging him to stop.

Steve curled his fingers around his balls, massaging them gently, trying to coax a little more pleasure out of Bucky.

“Okay, seriously, that’s all you’re getting,” Bucky said with breathless laughter. “I don’t have any more.”

He grinned, licking the sensitive head one last time, and he enjoyed the way Bucky whined a little, his body seizing up from the over stimulation. He propped his chin on his upper arm, looking up at Bucky. Long strands of his hair were sticking to his forehead and over his nose, most of it sticking to the back of the couch in a knotted mess. His face was flushed and splotchy, plump lips bitten raw and red, eyelids trembling slightly as Bucky caught his breath.

“You’re a mess.”

“Fuck you,” he said, opening his eyes to look at Steve.

They smiled at each other and Steve kissed Bucky’s thigh, nipping him gently with his teeth.

“Give me a minute and I’ll return the favor,” Bucky told him, taking a deep breath. “You can fuck my face and then put me on my knees.”

“Jesus,” Steve murmured, hiding his face against his arm. He grinned, reaching down to curl his hand over his own cock, hard and wet, waiting for his turn.

“Seriously, after that, _you’re_ blushing?”

“Shut up, Bucky.”

“Come up here and kiss me.”

Steve shoved his hands under Bucky’s back, moving to his knees and sliding his body up against Bucky’s chest. Bucky drew him closer, his hands in Steve’s hair, moving his head to get at Steve’s mouth. The kiss was long and dirty, tongue and spit. Steve moaned into Bucky’s mouth when he sucked on Steve’s tongue, scraping his teeth along it, biting his upper lip.

He groaned, feeling Bucky’s hand slip down his chest, teasing his nipple with a blunt fingernail, and then running his nails along his back to squeeze Steve’s ass. Bucky pushed Steve on his side and they both looked down to watch as Bucky curled his hand around Steve’s cock, stroking him slowly.

“Don’t come yet,” Bucky whispered against Steve’s mouth, licking his bottom lip. “Want you inside of me when you do.”

“Yeah,” he whispered back, leaning his forehead against Bucky’s neck, letting the pleasure of Bucky’s dry hand keep him right on the edge. “Get your hand wet.”

“I’ll do one better,” Bucky told him, letting Steve go and sinking down on the cushions. He patted Steve’s flank. “Come on, Steve, up on your knees.”

Steve moved, straddling Bucky’s chest, his hands holding the back of the couch.

Bucky held his hand steady at the base of Steve’s cock, wide mouth wrapped around the head, the edge of his jaw sharp as he suctioned in his cheeks. Steve gasped, trying to keep his hips still, his body flooding with pleasure from the heat of Bucky’s wet mouth.

“Shit. You’re going to make me come,” he murmured, one hand stroking down Bucky’s face to curl behind his neck.

He looked down to see Bucky staring up at him, the corner of his mouth pulled up in an awkward smirk. He pulled off with an obscene sounding pop, grinning wildly.

“Punk like you, no stamina,” he teased, chuckling.

Steve laughed, rolling his eyes. “Jerk.”

He got to his feet and looked down at Bucky, sprawled out and looking used. Bucky grinned up at him, coy and satisfied.

“Like what you see, pal?”

“Yeah,” he said, honestly. “Come on, get up on your knees and turn around.”

Steve reached down to pick up the condom from the couch cushion as Bucky heaved out a sigh, turning and scrambling up on his knees. He arched his back and pushed out his deliciously plump ass, looking over his shoulder at Steve.

“I don’t need a lot of prep, I want to feel you,” Bucky told him, ducking his chin, lips curved in a dirty smile.

“Jesus, Bucky.”

Steve rolled the condom down his cock, pushing back the pleasure. He slathered lube along his length and slipped his wet fingers along the crease to Bucky’s opening.

“Come on, I want to feel it.”

He pressed two fingers into Bucky, just to make sure that he was relaxed enough. Bucky sighed and arched back against his fingers.

“Fuck me, Steve.”

He smiled, pressing the head of his cock down with his thumb, and moved closer to Bucky’s hips. It was a warm, tight slide in, and he groaned when Bucky clenched down on him, thrusting his hips back impatiently to fuck down Steve’s length.

“Taking too long,” Bucky said, snickering, as he moved back and forth. He turned, arching his back, watching as Steve’s cock moved in and out of him, setting a hard, uneven pace.

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s chest, holding him close. “Let me do it,” he whispered, kissing along his neck, nipping on his ear. He turned Bucky’s face towards him, kissing him slowly. “Let me do this.”

He smiled, seeing nothing but challenge in Bucky’s blue eyes, and turned him so that he was braced against the back of the couch. Steve stayed close to him, keeping his cock inside Bucky’s snug warmth, shuffling his knees on the couch cushions and moving Bucky’s legs apart.

Bucky wasn’t hard yet, but he was firming up, the head poking out from the skin around it. Steve took a deep breath and closed his eyes, pushing his hips hard against Bucky. He heard Bucky gasp, felt his muscles clench around his cock, and Steve groaned against the back of Bucky’s neck, tightening his arms around Bucky’s chest.

“Quit trying to take over,” he said, nipping on the curve of Bucky’s ear.

“Come on, Steve, for fuck’s sake!” Bucky said, urgently.

He tried rearing back against Steve again, but Steve pressed in close, expecting it now, following Bucky’s movements until he had braced them both against the back of the couch, pinning Bucky still.

“Just wait for me. Please.”

Bucky panted roughly and nodded his acquiescence, dropping his chin and relaxing his body against Steve.

This was what Steve wanted most with Bucky; to be close like this, to take their time and draw it out. He ground his hips against Bucky’s ass, slipping out and pushing back in, adjusting his angle with each careful stroke, wanting to make this good for Bucky.

“You feel so good, Buck,” he murmured, nuzzling through his hair and sucking kisses along the back of his neck.

He felt Bucky shiver, his hips sliding forward a bit and then moving against him, groaning sharply when Steve slid across his prostate. Steve grinned, holding Bucky in place as he worked carefully, moving in the right way. Bucky’s hands dropped down, grabbing at Steve’s hips, anchoring them together as he rolled his hips against Steve. They kept up the slow, push and pull pace, both of them breathing harshly, almost in sync, as Steve ran his hands up and down Bucky’s chest. He nibbled on top of one ear, thumbing a nipple to hardness and pinching it just to hear Bucky suck in his breath at the sensation. Steve slid both of his hands down to the smooth skin of Bucky’s belly, letting his fingers trace and tease the skin lightly, feeling his stomach muscles flutter, feeling the rhythm of it around his cock. Bucky was hard now, desperately so, and Steve chuckled as he wrapped his hand on Bucky.

“So quiet,” he teased, whispering into Bucky’s ear, his hand stroking his cock with long, strong pulls. “Nothing to say about my stamina now, _hmm_?

“Fuck, oh fuck,” Bucky burst out, groaning. “God, Steve, come on…”

“I could do this all day.”

Bucky laughed. “Punk.”

He let go of Steve’s hips, one hand bracing against the back of the couch, the other curling around Steve’s hand, tightening his grip and trying to quicken his pace on his cock.

“Please, Steve,” Bucky murmured, turning his head and kissing Steve’s cheek, nipping along his jaw. “Come on, make me come, wanna feel you…”

Not one to be passive any longer, Bucky snapped his hips back to get Steve’s attention, grunting at the faster pace. Steve closed his eyes, letting the pleasure flood his senses. He couldn’t hold back anymore and he began thrusting into Bucky, fast and hard, his hand stripping Bucky’s cock with quick strokes.

“Yes, yes,” he groaned, burying his face against Bucky’s hair. _“Oh, Buck…”_

Bucky’s back arched and then snapped, his hips slamming back against Steve, and he let out a loud and deep sob, shuddering against Steve’s chest. His hand was wet with Bucky’s come and he worked him faster; the dirty slick-squelch sounds of his hand mixed in with Bucky’s moans and curses and his own cock fucking into Bucky’s tightening hole finally pushed Steve over the edge and he pressed his mouth against Bucky’s neck, heaving out a shuddery cry, his body tensing and then trembling with the force of coming.

He wrestled Bucky down to the back of the cushion and they both whimpered when Steve jerked his hips, his cock giving and taking the last sensations of pleasure. He tried to catch his breath; he could feel the brisk rise and fall of Bucky’s back under his chest. Bucky teased him for being taller and bigger than him now, but a part of Steve _relished_ the idea that he was able to hold Bucky like this; that Bucky fit under him just right.

Bucky elbowed him lazily and Steve choked out a laugh as he reluctantly moved off of Bucky. He ran his hand down then length of his lean back, enjoying the feel of his heated, sweaty skin.

He slipped out of Bucky carefully, pulling off the condom and holding it in his hand. Bucky let out a deep sigh, collapsing on the cushions on his front, arms folded under his head.  

“Here, kind of move to…right there,” Steve shifted Bucky’s body against the seat cushions and then followed him down, snuggling along his back.

Bucky sniggered, taking a deep breath. “Go ahead, cuddle all you want.”

“Shut it, you know you secretly love it.” He nipped Bucky’s shoulder playfully.

Steve ran the tips of his fingers along the pale scar line that started at the back of his neck, over his left shoulder blade, to under his arm. His skin was dotted with darkened scarring from shrapnel. Bucky wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, just that he was hurt during a mission gone bad, but Steve could see that it was a roadmap dotted with pain and loss.

He leaned down and kissed the back of Bucky’s neck, reverent and gentle, licking along the scar, pressing kisses here and there. Bucky was trembling under him, but he hadn’t pushed Steve away. He moved Bucky’s arm up so that he could finish kissing along his ribs.

“It’s pretty fucking hideous, isn’t it?” Bucky said, looking at Steve.

“No,” he told him, shaking his head. “Nothing about you is hideous.”

Bucky chuckled, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“You know you’re gorgeous, you don’t need me to add to your overblown ego.”

He kissed across Bucky’s shoulders as he laughed, his whole seemed to vibrate with it. Steve folded his arms across Bucky’s back and leaned his head on his upper arm, reaching up to stroke the back of Bucky’s head. Steve couldn’t remember having sex like this with anyone; definitely not with someone who knew him as well as Bucky; and never with anyone who loved him like Bucky.

They had a lot to talk about, things that Steve wanted to rediscover in his best friend, and things that he wanted to share with Bucky as lovers. He should get up, throw away the used condom that was still in his hand, pull Bucky in for a shower, call Phil and report in – a dozen things that he should do…but later. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Bucky’s warm skin against his own.

_Oh yes, much later._

“You got come all over my couch,” Bucky said, displeasure evident in his low, pouty tone. “It’s going to fucking stain. I’m going to have to get the whole thing reupholstered. Do you know how much that’s going to cost? What a waste. I really loved this couch, Steve.”

Steve laughed, nuzzling the back of Bucky’s ear. “I’ll buy you a new one…we’ll Scotch Guard the hell out of it.”

Bucky snorted, tangling his feet around Steve.


	8. TAG: Whatever Happens, Don’t Kill the Cat!

**CBS Broadcast Center**

 

Steve sat outside Phil’s office in the small waiting area, nervously tapping his fingers against the arms of the chair. He could hear muffled voices through the door, but at least there wasn’t any shouting – not that Phil would lower himself to shouting and threats. Bucky, his agent, his lawyer, his manager, the studio executives, the studio lawyer, the show’s producers, and Phil were meeting to talk about Bucky’s lost day and getting production back on track.

Phil opened the door and smiled at Steve. “Okay, we’re finished.”

Steve got to his feet as Bucky finished talking with his agent and his lawyer, shaking everyone’s hands, and stepped outside, giving Steve a small, tired smile.

“Hey, how did it go?”

Bucky sighed, shrugging. He fidgeted with his necktie, pulling down the well-made knot. “Well, I’m not fired. But contract negotiations for season three will probably be rough.”

Steve brushed his shoulder companionably against Bucky’s arm, motioning for his head to start walking down the hallway.

“If they even think about killing off your character to fire you off the show, then I won’t be that far behind you,” Steve said, lowly.

“Come on, don’t do that,” Bucky told him, grinning. “Even if it happens, I can still find other work. Don’t screw up a good thing.”

“What did…did they ask about us?”

Bucky laughed. “I don’t know what you or Phil said, but no one even mentioned it. At least, they won’t in front of my lawyer.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “It could’ve been worse.”

Steve slung his arm behind Bucky’s back, tugging him in closer. “We’ll make it through together. To the end of the line.”

“God, that line is so cheesy now.”

Steve snorted. _“Now?”_ They shared a laugh and a look. “Doesn’t make it any less true, Buck.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here. You hungry? I’ll buy you lunch,” Bucky said, reaching for his hand.

“Okay.”

Steve smiled, slipping his fingers between Bucky’s, blushing a little as they passed various production staff and crew members – all of them grinning fondly when they noticed that they were holding hands. He and Bucky had decided not to hide their new relationship but they weren’t interested in making any public declarations either; it really wasn’t all that different from how they acted at work anyway. Everyone already knew that they were close, that they were physically affectionate with each other. It was never unusual to see one of them with their arm slung around the other’s shoulders. The hand holding was still new and it was the one thing that Steve didn’t mind doing in front of their friends and colleagues. No doubt everyone would hear about it through the grapevine, but Steve didn’t care. He was pretty sure that Bucky wouldn’t either.

_“Stark won the betting pool,” Bucky told him, smirking._

_Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s because he had insider information.” He frowned, narrowing his eyes. “There was a betting pool?”_

“Phil suggested that I talk to a counselor to help me deal with some of my…issues,” Bucky said, glancing at him. “He has a friend who works for the VA, guy named Nick Fury, former special ops, who runs a support group for vets on Sunday mornings in Brooklyn. Phil said that he’d change my work schedule so that I could attend them.”

Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand. “Whatever you need, Bucky. We’re all here for you, you know.”

They stepped outside the building and lingered on the sidewalk while Bucky pulled out his cigarettes from inside his suit pocket, lighting one up. Steve was impressed that Bucky did it all one-handed, neither one of them wanting to let go of their hands.

“Walk or cab?”

“Let’s walk, I’m not in any hurry to go anywhere,” Steve said, leaning in to kiss him.

Bucky smiled against his lips, letting out a soft, pleased chuckle.

_“Ohmygod…”_

They pulled apart and turned to see a young woman holding up her iPhone, her eyes wide as she stared at them.

“No way!” She squeaked out and covered her mouth with her hand, her face completely red. “Uhhh…sorry? I wasn’t…I was just walking and saw you guys…I didn’t plan…I wasn’t expecting to take a picture of you two kissing, I swear!” She stammered, breathlessly, and Steve raised his eyebrows and grinned at her. She took a deep breath, her eyes wide. “Ohmygod! Really?”

Steve was about to very nicely ask her to delete it; but Bucky just laughed, tugging Steve by the hand down the sidewalk.

“You should post it, darling,” Bucky said to her, winking. “Share our love with the world.”

She stared at Bucky for a long moment and then at Steve. He saw her head bent over her phone, fingers moving furiously. She grinned at them, waving her phone in the air. “Done!”

Steve chuckled, hiding his face on Bucky’s shoulder. “Ohmygod, Bucky, what did you start?”

“Better a fan than some nasty tabloid paparazzi,” he said, smoking his cigarette as if nothing was the matter. He waved his hand, beckoning the fan. “Group picture? Give Stevie your phone, he has the longest reach.”

He obliged and took a couple of quick selfies together, shook hands with the fan – her name was Karen and she was a new intern on _CBS This Morning_ – and then parted ways. He wrapped his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, listening to Bucky’s play-by-play of what happened in his meeting when Bucky’s phone rang.

“Hang on, it’s Rebecca,” he accepted the call. “Hey, Bec—“

“Ohmygod, Bucky, are you and Steve totally doing it!” She screeched in his ear. “There’s a picture of you and Steve kissing in the middle of the street – it’s all over the Internet! It’s trending on Twitter!”

Bucky laughed, putting her on speaker. “That happened like five minutes ago.”

Steve covered his face with his hands, laughing.

“Ma says that you better bring Steve home to dinner tonight – and she says that gentlemen do not make out in public where people can take your pictures,” Rebecca said, snickering.

“Oh no,” Steve said, blushing furiously. He could see Mrs. Winifred Barnes giving Steve “the look” in his mind’s eye.

Bucky smiled, looking over at Steve. “All right, we’ll be there.”

“Don’t get caught with your hands down Steve’s pants, bro,” she said, laughing hysterically and then ending the call.

“Well, that’s that,” Bucky said, putting his phone away and holding out his hand to Steve.

Steve took it; taking a deep breath. He leaned in close to Bucky’s ear, breathing in the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and aftershave. “Let’s just go to your place and order in pizza before going to your ma’s house.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky nodded, crushing his cigarette out on a nearby trash can. Steve watched as he stepped to the curb, holding up his hand and letting out a loud whistle.

Steve knew that they weren’t going to just walk off into the sunset together. It was going to take a lot of time and work – neither of them could guarantee that it was even going to work out. But he knew he was going to try and he knew that Bucky would try, too. They had a lot to learn about each other, but Steve was sure that they’d work through it as best friends, as partners, and as lovers.

“Well, come on, Rogers,” Bucky said, smiling at him from the opened taxi door. “What’re you waiting for, pal?”

 

 

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Well, it's the end of the line for this story! LOL! I hope you all enjoyed it and thanks for all the kudos, comments, and support! This was my first Stucky fic so I had a lot of fun writing it. Now I just have to figure out what to write next!

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I update snippets on my Tumblr: theserpentgirl.tumblr.com


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